The Second Avatar
by Asharion
Summary: Zuko has lost three days in his travels tracking the Avatar, Aang, after stopping at harbor for repairs and defeating General Zhao in an Agni Kai. He is interrupted at sea by Zhao again, who has a private talk with Uncle Iroh. When Iroh returns, someone else comes with him; a prisoner who will turn out to be far more than they bargained for.
1. The Trade

**The Second Avatar **

**Introduction**

Some things you should know before your read this series; it takes place some time after Zuko and General Zhao faced off in an Agni Kai in the series. This story literally interjects itself into the actual story-line of _Avatar: The Last Airbender _I can't tell you yet if it will keep following the series's plotline, but more-or-less it should. This fanfic started after I had spent a few days watching the series from beginning to end, and i typed the first chapter and part of the second in one sitting. I shared the story with my amazing penpal, Rikki, and she went through and was a complete goddess and edited and corrected my grammar mistakes. I owe much of the (I think it is, anyways, i hope you do, too, even just a little, xD) story's awesomeness to her. Now I know why authors spaz out and dedicate a page in their book to their editors; they really do deserve it.

Anyways, Zuko still has his bald head with the pony tail in back; you can roughly timeline the whole cartoon series by his hair, xD I also apologize if he or anyone else seems nudged out-of-character. Maybe i'm just paranoid, but i really do try hard not to. Constructive reviews are gladly appreciated; don't be afraid to be blunt, i'll just be happy you took the time to share your opinion with us.

Ah, and because i've noticed other people warning readers about it, yes, this story does use OC's. There may or may not be any pairings that weren't in the original series.

And now, onto the story...

* * *

**Chapter one:**

**The trade**

It was a dimly lit morning, fog crawling in lazy, mysterious clouds over the wide spread of ocean. For such a large ship, the beast was made so small and insignificant when compared to the vast, seemingly endless expanse of ocean; even other Fire Nation ships. Newer, bigger, better models had been built in the three years that had passed since the banished prince's leaving. Just another thing for the young man to frown about. Four figures occupied the deck of the metal boat, all but one dressed in typical Fire Nation military uniforms. The oddball out was an older, big-bellied man, calmly sipping his tea and watching the darkened clouds slowly congeal into one large mass. Beams of light still protruded from the fluffy masses in bright, shimmery rays upon the glimmering water of the sea, occasionally lighting up parts of the ship in fleeting spurts of sunshine. However, this minimal amount of sun was not enough to chase off the chill of the early morning or to cast aside the bluish tones that tried to trick one into thinking it was still night.

"Prince Zuko, waiting in the cold morning air will not bring us any closer to land. How about a nice cup of tea? Come, sit down, and relax with your uncle." The old man spoke out to his younger nephew. He knew the words were most likely futile, but there was always the off chance his nephew would take him up on the offer. It had happened before, on occasion, when Zuko was in one of his rare good moods. The figure Iroh had spoke out to did not reply for a short, fleeting moment that seemed to drag on into the silence of the still air, the only noises being the clunking and clanking sounds of the ship's inner workings and the splashing of water against the metal beasts hull.

"I know he's out there, uncle." Zuko replied, eyes staring tirelessy out into the endless seas, always searching. His voice was serious, focused. They had lost three days of their travels, something the boy truly regretted. However, stopping at harbor to replenish their dwindling supplies had been necessary. Despite this, the crew was still short on fresh water. The purifying system below deck that took in salt water and filtered it to a safe drinkable state had been badly damaged in an unfortunate explosion caused by a leaking gas pipe. It was one bad event after another, it seemed. This old hunk of metal was falling apart-ten years at sea had put her in a state of antiquity, and only three of those had been under Zuko's command.

Iroh opened his mouth to speak, holding his cup of steaming tea in both hands on pause; but before he could get a word out one of the crew members stepped out onto the deck and called for Zuko's attention. A bold move in itself, however necessary.

"What is it?" Zuko demanded, turning in his stance to look at the older crew member. It was hard to tell at times that the boy was only at the young age of sixteen. He was the youngest person aboard the ship and also the one in command of everything. His eyes spoke of anger and turmoil, the red, flame-shaped scar on his left eye in stark contrast to his pale skin. He viewed the mark as a painful and humiliating reminder of the shame and dishonor he had merited, the bane of his existence.

"We received a transmission from a nearby ship. General Zhao is going to be crossing paths with us, and wishes to have an audience with you and your uncle. He says that it is something important."

"Did he say anything else?" Zuko prompted, no sooner than the man had finished speaking. Iroh lifted his head, eyes narrowing subtly at the crew-members words as he turned his gaze back down to the rippling tea in the cup he held. If he had an opinion, he didn't voice it.

"No, sir. They are about an hour away from us."

"Very well." Zuko glanced over at his uncle-the man had fallen silent, which meant he was thinking. He turned his attention back to what the crew member had told him, thinking. What would General Zhao want with him and his ship? They were far from being anything close to friends. Scowling, Zuko turned back to the expanse of sea ahead of them. Or rather, what he could see of it. The white fog still clung all around them, the effect accentuated by the dark, swirling clouds above. A storm was coming.

* * *

About an hour later, true to the crewman's words, a shadow broke through the fog ahead. Zuko felt himself tense-something wasn't right about this whole setup, he just knew it. Zhao was definitely up to something.

He couldn't help but feel another shot to his tortured pride when the massive hulk of his rival's ship came ever closer-a good four to five times the size of his, and ten times the crew. Zuko's boat was poorly undermanned; but at least the crew were hard-working and loyal. The prince would never openly admit to it; but he did care for his men, though he rarely showed itl. Perhaps that was one of the reasons his rag-tag team had been together for so many long, difficult years; the acts of kindness Zuko sometimes showed were all the more merited and truly genuine. And then there was his uncle-it was hard not to like the man, and he offered breaks from the prince's serious attitude and gloomy moods.

Zuko lifted his gaze, hands clasped tightly behind his back and feet placed shoulder-width apart, his uncle standing next to him in a much more casual, relaxed air, still holding onto a cup of hot tea. His eyes met with those of a smug, smirking, older man, standing in a similar stance but more confident, demeaning to the people around him. Zuko's crew had already brought their ship to a halt in the swishing waters, and now it was Zhao's turn to order his boat to a standstill. A loud, metallic, scraping noise broke the otherwise quiet morning air, offending in its disturbance of the still quiet. The noise came from a hinged metal ramp as it was raised up out of its storage slot; the edge of the long metal plank was laid down on the rim of Zuko's barge. A few barked orders and chatter from the opposing ship; and now Zuko, his grandfather, and one other uniformed man were walking across the ramp to the rival bardge.

"Aaaah, Prince Zuko! A pleasure to see you as always," said the man that greeted them on deck with a demeaning tone to his voice, his sideburns as flamboyantly formidable as always. Iroh watched his nephew's face flinch, brows-well, one of them, anyway, the other was nonexistent after being burned off-furrowing tightly, a customary frown upon the boy's face.

"I don't suppose you're here for tea-time," Zuko retorted sharply, much to his uncle's dismay. Zhao's smirk stayed plastered on his malevolent face.  
"No, I don't suppose we are. So, why don't we just get down to business? I would like to have a... private conversation, with your uncle, if he'd be so kind."  
Zuko opened his mouth to speak; but Iroh held up a hand, eyes closing for a moment. "A fresh cup of tea would be appreciated. I am curious to hear your story on why you have gone out of your way to see us. This is quite the surprise, I am honored."

"Yes, indeed it is quite the surprise." There was emphasis on the word 'surprise' that Zuko didn't like; but for once, he kept his mouth shut, casting a look to his uncle. Sometimes it was just impossible to figure out what that man was thinking. Zhao turned his snake-like gaze to Zuko, the grin on his face shifting into an infuriating smirk.

"Prince Zuko, perhaps you'd care to take a tour of my ship. It would be a pleasant excursion for you to see the wonders of modern-day advancements."  
"I think I'll pass." Zuko deadpanned, glaring. His fists clenched tighter, chest tightening. A small burst of flame appeared in the air by his hands where none had been previously, sparks seeming to fly off its furious, flickering tips before vanishing into thin air. The fire died down almost as soon as it had come. Zhao seemed to take the hint, had been expecting it, even. With a final glance to the rage-filled prince, the general turned his attention away, beckoning to Zuko's uncle.

"Iroh, if you'll come with me."

With a final warning glance to his nephew, Iroh turned his attention back to Zhao, giving a customary bow: one hand flat with the thumb folded in, the bottom of his palm just touching the other hand, which was closed into a fist. In silence, Zhao and three of his men walked with the old man and out of sight, into the ship. Zuko scoffed lightly, looking away from the two, not willing to admit even to himself that he already missed his uncle's calming presence.

Zhao stepped into the generously spaced, cozy office, all metal floors and walls and red and black that represented the Fire Nation so well. He took his seat at what could half-jokingly be referred to as a throne behind a wide, flat desk made of dark wood. An ink well, brushes, and stacks of paper neatly adorned its polished surface. Iroh followed suit, sitting down in the notably simpler and shorter chair across from Zhao and his desk.

After a moment of silence, the two men regarding each other, with Iroh's calm gaze unbreaking and Zhao's customary smug smirk still evident, Zhao finally spoke:  
"Iroh, it is good to see you. It's been nearly a year." Iroh gave a small nod of his head, eyes closing for a moment before he answered.

"General Zhao, I see you are in good health. I would hate to keep my nephew waiting. Why don't we get to the point of this visit?" He said in reply, a wise glimmer in his eyes as he spoke, watching the younger man.

Zhao scowled, knowing the games were over. Such a shame. "Fine, then. You have something I want, and I believe I have something of equal interest and value."

"Oh?" Iroh replied, leaning back in the chair, taking a sip of the tea that had just been poured for him by a crew member. He had accepted it while Zhao was talking with a softly murmured thank-you.

"I've heard rumors," Zhao began, a dark glimmer appearing in his eyes like that of a wickedly sly fox, hungry for whatever it was he wanted, "that you and your nephew have spotted the Avatar." Silence rang throughout the room as Zhao's voice faded dramatically into the silence; Iroh's eyes narrowed slightly.

"To take such a long journey out of your way to visit us, based upon idle rumors, is quite the desperate gamble, General Zhao. If this is all you wanted, then I believe my nephew and I will take our leave."

After a briefly scowling at Iroh's words of a 'desperate gamble', Zhao's smug grin returned, even stronger; exaggerated. The general leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head; he looked up from Iroh to stare off into space.

"Ah. Such a shame, then. I thought a warm-hearted man like you would be more… compassionate, for the girl's sake. A true shame, really. Some of my men have been talking of taking her for a little field trip, if you know what I mean." His eyes searched Iroh's face, looking for signs of the older man's soft heart taking to the bait. There, right there. A flicker of pain, sympathy, in the old man's eyes, just before they narrowed into suspicious coals.

"What is it you are getting at here, general Zhao." What should have been a question sounded more like a statement.

Zhao smirked. Good, he'd taken the bait. "I'm glad you asked. My men and I picked up a very unusual prisoner a few weeks back. She has quite the pretty face, but there is something more… unique, about her. Never-the-less, i have already made arrangements to sell her off to a man who dawdles in the market a bit. Quite the pretty penny she'll fetch, if my men don't get to her first. Of course, her life could be of interest to you. It's not common at all that one comes upon a child who can bend not one, but two elements. Wind and water, an unusual combination. We originally thought she was the Avatar, but her limit is two, and she bears no airbender tattoos. There is also the matter of her gender, being that the current reincarnate is a boy."

Iroh's eyes visibly widened at this, his cup stopping on its trip to his lips. His calm expression soon returned, and he took a sip from his halted tea, mulling this over. He did not reply, waiting for Zhao to continue.

"Perhaps… I wonder, your Nephew could bring this girl to his father; perhaps a prodigy almost as rare as the avatar himself would be enough to redeem his honor. Or you just have a soft enough heart to keep the girl out of the hands of people who would be notably less careful with her." Zhao's disgusting smirk returned, eyes showing he was so very confident of his dominance in this discussion. He would win this easily; there were few people as manipulative as himself.

"Hmm. And I suppose in exchange for this prisoner of yours, you want information about the Avatar?" Iroh asked dully, voice void of emotion.

* * *

Zuko looked up as his uncle stepped out of the ship's cabin alongside General Zhao, who wore an even more smug smirk on his face than before. He noted that Iroh's expression was darker than it had been before leaving to converse with Zhao-something had happened, and his grandfather was either upset over something he'd heard or said, or more likely was dreading his nephew's reaction to what had transpired. And yet… there was something… different. Something had clearly changed in his uncle's demeanor. Like he was acting a part, not to be revealed until after Zhao's annoying presence had left them alone. The two men walked over to Zuko, who pushed off from his position leaning on the side-railing of the ship's bow with his arms folded tightly across his chest.

A commotion picked up from the back end of the ship, and a scraping noise that sounded like someone dragging heavy metal across the like-materialed floor of the ship's deck. Iroh lifted his gaze from his teacup to look over, his expression like that of someone who had just bought a new tiger-horse without ever seeing what the creature looked like. This gave Zuko a small pang of alarm-what had his uncle and Zhao talked about, exactly? He waited expectantly, eyes narrowing to thin slits as the scene of interest came into view:

Two soldiers were dragging a young boy out from below deck. His hair was messy and disheveled; smears of soot, dirt, and blood covered his face. A metal band covered the prisoner's mouth, apparently preventing him from speaking out. Heavy metal gauntlets covered the boy's hands, and a tight fabric band wrapped around the lad's chest and pinned his arms further from moving. They were secured behind his back, chains draping down from the cuffs to cross around his knees and then connect to shackles around each of the boy's ankles. As the trio neared, a group of men cautiously trailing behind them, Zuko realized with slight shock that 'he' was actually a 'she.' Interesting, but gender was fairly irrelevant in this situation. He was curious as to why the event was even taking place, and why the prisoner was being brought over to them. Had Zhao discussed a prisoner transfer, or a trade of some sort? And more importantly, who was she?

He turned his attention to Zhao, eyes glaring, strong chest rising and falling in a heavy, tensed breath. "What is this all about?"

Zhao returned Zuko's glare with a smirk. "Seems your uncle has a softer heart than I thought. The information on the location of the avatar he gave was a fair trade enough for this girl's life. I wonder what goes on in your ship, Prince Zuko, that he would be so interest-"

"You-!" Zuko interrupted viciously, about to lunge forward when Iroh placed a restraining arm between the two of them.

"Enough, Prince Zuko. What is done is done." Something in his uncle's eyes stopped him- Iroh knew something he didn't.

Zhao's smug, victorious expression only seemed to grow at Zuko's outburst. "Well, it seems some of us can keep a cool head. Iroh, I'll leave the prisoner's care to you now." The general turned, and with a wave to his men, walked away, arms folded calmly behind his back. He shouted to his crew, telling them to change direction and set their course for a familiar place.

A very familiar place. Zuko realized with dismay and anger that he and his uncle had visited there in search of the avatar a few weeks ago. What exactly had his uncle told them?

He looked over to the shackled girl, already detesting her presence, wondering of her origins and just generally being his usual distrusting self. Well, then. The man that had accompanied the prince and his uncle across the boarding ramp stepped forward, taking hold of the girl's arm from the two men, who all-too-gladly stepped away from her. Zuko turned, scowling, blood boiling at Zhao's infuriatingly successful attempts to provoke him, and followed Iroh onto the ramp as they began to cross over to their own ship. He had to turn and help his crew member bring the girl up onto the ramp-she was all but limp, feet dragging across the ground. From the looks of it she was nearly starved. Zuko couldn't help but notice that even he treated prisoners with better care, though it was far from 'friendly.' He glanced at her face as she lifted it to look meekly over her shoulder at the ship she was leaving. His gaze was greeted with the girl's as her fierce eyes turned back towards him, as if daring him to say something. What was most intriguing, however, was their colors. One was a swirling, almost opalescent blue, like moonlight; the other was a deep, true blue like that of the ocean. Her eyes almost gave the illusion that she was blind, as the colors seemed to blend in with her pupils.

Zuko turned after she was walking across the ramp, steadily following his uncle over it. His grandfather stepped down, just as Zhao's ship began to move. The ramp gave a scraping noise as it slide first to the side, the three people still on it trying to regain their footing, before the hinged ramp suddenly dropped out from under them. That bastard! Zuko's hand caught on the side rim of his ship, but the shackled prisoner and the other man dropped down into the ocean waters below with startled cries.

"Dammit!" Zuko growled, a flick of fire coming from one clenched fist as he let go of the railing. His uncle gave a shout to the other crewmen, only stopping afterwards to give a decisive glare to a certain general who stood, arms clasped behind his back, smirking over at them as his men pulled the metal ramp back up over the railing and let it slide down into its slot.

The water greeted Zuko with its icy, frigid embrace as he dove down into it, bubbles swirling up all around him. He could see two struggling figures swiftly starting to sink into the darkness of the deep ocean waters, and he swam down, grabbing the arm of his crewman and then turning to the girl. She was struggling in vain; the heavy metal enclosing her limbs was dragging her down and inhibiting her movements too much to allow her any chance of surfacing on her own. Eyes opened wide at Zuko, terrified, before she shook her head, as if trying to signal him to do something. On impulse, Zuko slipped his arm down under hers, legs kicking to try and swim with the other man to bring her up to the surface. His lungs were already starting to burn dully as the flickering surface of the water overhead and the bulky hull of his ship grew farther and farther away. With a scowl, he wanted to shout at the woman to stop squirming; she wasn't making this any easier, and he was concerned for his crewman's breath. He had been down precious seconds longer than Zuko, after all.

For reasons that escaped him, perhaps by some odd distant instinct, Zuko finally reached out, and with a jerk of his wrist tore the mouth covering from the girl's face. She stilled for a moment, just before letting out a rushed breath. A pocket of air suddenly grew, and before they knew it, Zuko, the girl, and the crew member's heads were all surrounded in a large bubble of air. The three took in needed breaths, water dripping down their faces. An airbender? Impossible! The only person Zuko knew of that could airbend was the avatar, and he was nowhere near here. Was she some descendant that had escaped the brutal invasion from the Fire Nation a hundred years ago, wiping out all life in the air temples? A strong flash of shock coursed through the young man at this as he gave a tug upwards, trying to bring the three of them closer to the fading surface. This wasn't working. With a determined growl, he pushed the crew member's arm off of the girl. The man gave his commander a confused expression, worry flashing in his eyes. "Get going! Go, go!" Zuko snapped, urging the man away. With a pause that seemed to drag on into eternity, the man finally gave a nervous nod, then began to swim up and away after taking a breath from the pocket of air. Zuko closed his eyes, preparing himself, then shifted, curling an arm tightly around the airbender's waist and shot his other arm straight down. A burst of flame shot out from his hand straight into the water, bubbles of steam rising. The flames flickered and started to die, before a bubble of air started to curl around Zuko's hand, and the fire grew once more. They started to lift, the surface above beginning to come closer.

Kaite, the man who had gone down with the shackled captive, took a gasping breath as he surfaced, waving an arm up into the air and letting out a shout. A ladder dropped down from Zuko's boat, and he swam over, grabbing onto it and looking down into the dark waters, searching for any signs of his commander and the prisoner, alarm flaring up in his chest, heart pounding. As much as he desperately wanted to stay and be of some help, he knew he couldn't. The soilder turned, beginning to climb up the ladder, body shaking and shivering, numb from the cold seawater. It wasn't long before hands were hauling him up and over onto the solid deck of the ship, relief flooding his body before fear for the others took over. He tried to sit up, but the hands stopped him, and instead carefully lifted him up, beginning to haul him away.

"F-forg-give me," he mumbled, teeth clattering, eyes closing tight. It felt like he was just abandoning them, abandoning his commander to the frigid waters of the ocean. He would give himself hell if the boy didn't surface; being Zuko, he probably would. But for fire's sake, if he didn't...

Zuko's head was the second to break the surface, shortly followed by the girl's; his arm shot out to grab onto the rope ladder that dangled down into the water. He latched on with a clenched fist, and with a grunt hauled himself up and onto it, the weight of the girl and her metal accoutrements suddenly growing heavier as his muscles strained to lift her out of the water, where gravity was considerably lighter. Shouting above, and the ladder wobbled as men began to pull it up. Zuko shifted with a heavy breath, bringing the girl up and placing her more-or-less over his shoulder, grasping the dowels of the ladder with both hands now, feet firmly placing down onto the wood as he began to climb. Agonizingly long moments later, the two were pulled over the side of the ship and onto the deck. In all the commotion, Zuko took the moment to just breathe, allowing the hands to help for just a second before shoving them away.

"Get off me! I'm fine," he snapped, voice exasperated and tired and in no way conveying that he was 'fine.' He brushed some of the water from his face, closing his eyes and letting a breath of fire heat his insides, a spurt of it whooshing out from parted lips. Uncle Iroh hurried over, draping a heavy wool blanket over his shoulders. Zuko shrugged it off almost immediately, tossing it over the girl's form. She was shaking her head in an apparent attempt to dry off, spraying the men with water as a hoarse cough escaped her lips. Iroh held something out to Zuko; a key. He turned his attention to the young woman, quickly running over the situation. Let her out of her shackles and get her dried off and below deck, or leave the now-ice-cold metal to sap away what heat her body had left in it. Without saying anything he snatched the slim metal object that dangled off a chain from his uncle, and knelt down, soaking wet, next to the girl. He stuck the key into the slot on her leg shackles, twisting it and watching as the metal fell with a loud clang onto the deck, the chains rattling. The arms were next, as well as a metal choker clasped tightly around her neck. She let out a gasp of air, limbs pulling out and away from the chains and metal enclosings. Zuko braced himself, prepared for any gust of win-

Well, at least he'd been prepared; his men had not. The woman had stood up, and with a sudden shaky, fluid downward swing of her arms had blown all the water from her clothes and the area around her. The gust of wind blew over Zuko and the men, many of them stumbling down. His uncle grunted, holding up an arm in front of his face and leaning forward into the blast. Fire flew out from Zuko's fingertips on reflex, but quickly died down. The girl slipped, falling with a thud back down onto the deck. The men surrounding them had quickly come into defensive stances, ready to let fire fly from their bodies out at the prisoner.

"You c-could at least th…thank me!" she snapped, voice shaking as she turned a glare up to Zuko. A tired expression came over her features shortly afterwards, and with a sudden flick of her wrist, water lifted off the dec-water? Zuko's eyes widened in disbelief. Alarmed, one of the men began to attack, just as crystals of salt and small debris dropped down out of the little blob of liquid and onto the deck in a small pile, and the water flew through the air and into the girl's open mouth.

"Stop!" Zuko's hand shot out, grasping the man's arm and jerking it down. The shot of fire flared down onto the deck, its red tendrils curling up into the air before they vanished. The men looked to Zuko with confused expressions, or at least the ones who weren't wearing helmets.

Iroh was already, annoyingly, by the woman's side, pulling the wool blanket up over her shoulders and helping her up. She was a prisoner, not a houseguest. But something that had just happened caught Zuko's interest, in more ways than one. She had airbended, and waterbended. The second thing that had occurred to him, quite randomly, was when he had watched her cleanse the water of salt and drink it. His mind had made the connection between that event and the fact that they were running desperately low on drinking water.

"Uncle, who is she? What did you tell Zhao, and what is going on here?" he demanded, eyes flicking over to the girl as she began coughing, then back to his uncle. Two of the men were already hauling up the ladder, rolling it up to be used another day.

"Mm, perhaps we could discuss this after we get her some clean, dry clothes," said Iroh, though it was evident the girl was already dried off. She was barefoot, currently only wearing a short, black, tattered chemise and the wool blanket Iroh had given her. The girl shifted, flinching away from the people on the deck, eyes flitting nervously around the men surrounding her, distrust lingering in her features before her icy gaze settled back onto Zuko; it was torn away as she let out another cough.

Zuko scowled, temper flaring, before he turned away, waving a hand up. "Fine. Just remember that she is a prisoner, and not a guest," he said icily, glancing back to his uncle before turning and walking away.

* * *

_End of chapter one_


	2. Asharion

Woot! Next chapter, guys. Rikki and I actually have a total of three chapters written; the thing is, they are chapter lengths like that of what you would read in an actual book. For both yours and my sanity, I have gone through and broken what we have so far into smaller, hopefully easier-to-chew-down chapters.  
I'd like to make a shout-out to Elations, as the first person on here to read and review Chapter One: The Trade. I will keep an eye out in the future for run-on sentences; but unfortunately, they seem to curse my fingers as i type with the wicked winds of attraction. That officially made no sense, in a very sense-making sort of way. Logic is bliss, no?

Alright, onto the next one. My impatience has won out; I will probably posting the next few chapters over the week or so. I will then, sorry for you guys who have picked up this new story, be leaving for roughly three weeks to go and stay at a friends horse ranch. Can't wait!  
Also; i am curious to know; how are Rikki and I doing, expressing Zuko's anger? After reading another fantastic fanfiction i highly recommend you dive into; _More Than The Price Of Honor, by Heza8, _I really had an eye-opener for a deeper, more colorful way to describe the turmoil in Zuko's life.

Also, for those who are interested; The 'coverpage' for this fanfic was photos hoped into existence by me. I used my own original artwork, Rikki's picture of her character that she drew(She has yet to make an appearance so far), and a picture of Zuko and Uncle Iroh I found online. Credit out to those who are entitled to it. Also, i will eventually be posting links to some picture's Rikki and I have drawn, for those of you who want to see what our characters look like.

* * *

******-~•*•*•~-**

**Chapter two:**

**Asharion**

The girl waited nervously, hands tied once again behind her back by a strong, soft rope, courtesy of Iroh. The icy cold from the sea's water had faded from her limbs, but it had also been replaced by aching soreness. It had been weeks since her limbs had been free of those dreadful shackles, only to be tied up again in a similar, though immensely much freer, position. Much more comfortable now, she had to admit, with soft rope versus heavy, cold metal clamps and chains. She was sitting in a small room, on the edge of a bed. A large tapestry hung on the wall of the Fire Nation's symbol, a beautiful red color its background. She was dressed in clean clothes now, which had been scrounged up from a few members of the ship's crew. A black vest and boots over a deep red shirt and pants, as well as a pair of wrist cuffs that v'ed out onto her hand with a stiff fabric that Iroh had been kind enough to give her. The belt she wore was made of a gold-colored fabric, with a lighter red material draping down from under it to fall over her hips and butt; there was also a strip of cloth the same color as her shirt with gold trim that fell down in front of her crotch to almost her knees, rectangular until the end where it adopted a pointed shape.

She looked down to the metal floor, then to the similar walls. Sighing, the girl lay back with a thud against the stiff mattress, closing her eyes and taking a shaky breath in, then out. Okay. So she'd gone from one ship to another, and she was scared to find out what had brought about the transition. The old man had shown some compassion for her, which she had truly been grateful for. Her limbs felt weak and shaky from starvation; what meager leftovers the warden had fed her had been scarce and had offered little nourishment. She shifted, testing the rope bonds on her wrists and ankles, shaking her head a bit to move some hair that had fallen into her eyes out of the way. Her stomach growled loudly; she sat up, trying to ignore the aching, gnawing sensation in her gut. Her memory flashed back to underwater; she couldn't swim, and had to admit that the experience had been, to say the least, terrifying. She shuddered at the thought, shaking her head as if that would chase away the images in her mind. The boy that had pulled her out of the water came back into her thoughts, his eyes fierce and full of so much anger; confusion, even.

And yet, she saw good in those amber, golden orbs. Odd that she was thinking of this now, especially since she had had only a few short minutes with him. What had been his name? Zume…? No, Zaku? Zuma? …Zuko? Yes! Zuko. Uh… at least, she _thought_ that's what it was. Her thoughts were interrupted as the door to her room abruptly swung open, and Zuko himself stepped inside, followed by his uncle. Speak of the Devil; or rather, think.

The ever-polite Iroh gave a customary Fire Nation bow, hand flat with the bottom of his palm to a closed fist, before straightening. Zuko wasted no time on such a gesture, his amber gaze harder than stone. The door was pulled shut; a turning, clicking noise showed that the guards outside were locking it. Iroh glanced up at his nephew, who was watching the girl with suspicion, as if waiting for her to attack.

"You couldn't have picked her a simpler outfit, uncle," Zuko stated flatly, glancing to Iroh; the latter merely shrugged, a slight smile appearing on his lips that could almost be called a smirk.

"I thought this was kind of nice after a ragged chemise. Red is my favorite color, too," she offered with an impish grin.

"I didn't ask you." Zuko snapped, temper rising in his face.

The girl frowned for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself before she spoke. "Thank you."

"For what?" Zuko asked in reply, confusion flickering across his features for an instant.

"For saving my life, for better or for worse," she added, reminding herself of her situation.

The boy's features seemed to soften just a touch, his eyes flitting away almost shyly, as if to deny the events of the past hour. Iroh stifled a yawn as he walked over to the lonely chair in the corner on the room, dragging it over to sit closer to the little group, between the girl and boy. Zuko kept his distance.

"I could say the same," he finally said, voice a touch softer than its previously harsh tones. He was referring to the life-giving air she'd surrounded their heads with underwater. The young woman shifted into a more comfortable position, wishing she could cross her legs instead of being forced to sit with them neatly in front of her, hanging off the edge of the bed.

"So... what do you want?" the prisoner asked, a nervous knot tightening in her stomach as she spoke, muscles tensing.

Zuko opened his mouth to speak, but Iroh interjected before he could get a word out. Again. "My nephew and I were wondering if you could tell us a bit about yourself. It's not everyday you meet a beautiful young woman who bends both air and water," he said, voice grandfatherly and soft. Zuko cast his uncle a glare for his soft, kind tone; Iroh simply smiled.

The girl shifted, looking from the boy to the old man to her boots, then back to the old man. Strands of hair fell back down into her face, and she shifted, blowing them up and out of the way with a small gust of bended wind. "…what exactly is it you want to know? If you want to ask about prison food menus, they suck." This merited a chuckle from Iroh and a rolling of the eyes from Zuko.

"Everything," stated the young man almost the moment she finished speaking; immediately after, he realized he'd spoken too quickly. With a flustered, almost cutely pout-like gesture, he scowled, turning away from her once again, pacing, hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"Well, you already know my favorite color is red," she offered helpfully, grinning.

Iroh let out a short laugh, and Zuko spun on his heel to face them, arm swinging down by his side through the air in a tight, short, forceful motion as fire shot from his clenched fist and followed its sweeping motion before dying out as quickly as it had appeared.

"Uncle, we don't have time for this! What did you tell General Zhao about the Avatar?" he demanded impatiently.

"-How did you do that?" the girl asked abruptly, hopping off the bed, eyes wide with curiosity, the image of the fire arcing through the air repeating itself in her mind.

Zuko turned to her, scowling. "Do what?" he snapped.

"Make fire. You did it before, too. How do you make it?"

Zuko ignored the girl's question, turning back to his uncle. Iroh watched with curiosity, before looking to his nephew. He stood, holding up a hand and placing it on the young man's shoulder with a calm, firm grip.

"Zuko," he began, eyes closing briefly. "General Zhao was going to sell her to a man who dealt in… shady business. You know as well as I that I never lead people to slaughter if I can avoid it." His gaze shifted briefly to the girl before flitting back to his nephew. "He offered me a trade. They had her in custody for about a month, after finding her unconscious on an island, near the harbor where they stopped. General Zhao wanted information on how we have come tracking the Avatar, and I gave him some. I never said, however, that it was up-to-date," he added, smiling at his own clever actions and watching for his nephew's reaction. Zuko waited a while before closing his eyes and giving a small nod in reply, his tensed form relaxing.

The young woman in their custody watched and listened impatiently; actually, she was very curious about their conversation. Well, they were talking about her, of course; but what sparked her curiosity was that she didn't remember how she ended up on Zhao's ship. Come to think of it, she didn't remember anything before that, either, save for a few scarce bits and pieces.

Iroh turned to the girl, with a small nod of his head. "My name is Iroh. I am Prince Zuko's uncle." He paused, turning to his nephew, who gave a grudging nod of acknowledgment to the woman. Iroh continued, "What name do you go by?"

"Uh…" She paused, thinking it over, before shrugging. "Call me Asharion."

"You just made that up," Zuko said, quick to accuse. Iroh didn't look surprised.

"Your point is…?"

"What is your _birth_ name?" Zuko said, irritation evident in his voice.

"I don't know it."

"How is that even pos-" Zuko began, but was cut short by Iroh for what seemed the millionth time today.

"You don't remember, do you?" Iroh said gently, clasping his hands together, elbows on his knees, and resting his chin on his folded fingers, watching her.

She paused, biting the inside of her lip, before giving a small nod. "Just bits and pieces."

Zuko's pacing feet finally came to a standstill as he leaned against the wall, watching her, arms folded tightly across his torso.

Asharion returned his gaze with a blank, thoughtful expression, before open her mouth and baring her teeth at him, grinning goofily."Watcha starin' at me for? Is there something in my teeth?" she asked, closing her open mouth to keep grinning. Iroh stifled a laugh, instead giving a quiet chuckle. Zuko just shook his head in annoyance.

"No," he replied curtly.

"Then what is it?"

"…" he replied.

"…?"

"…"

"…okay, fine, Mr. Talkative."

"Don't call me that," he growled, lifting his head to glare at her, before making a visible effort to cool his temper. After a moment, he looked at a spot on the wall by her head, gaze terse.

"I… have a favor to ask," he began, almost unwillingly.

Iroh looked a little startled; he lifted his head up to look at his nephew, his gaze questioning. Zuko didn't wait for a reply, continuing.

"My crew is running short on drinking water, and I know you can fix that."

"Sure," Asharion said without hesitation, shrugging.

Zuko looked up, surprise in his eyes. "What? You're not going to ask for anything?" That had been easier than he'd anticipated, almost suspiciously so.

"Well, it would be nice to have my hands and feet unbound. And yes, 'sure'. I owe you twice now."

"Twice?" Iroh questioned, raising an eyebrow, before giving a small nod as he answered his own question inside his head.

Zuko narrowed his eyes, before inhaling a hissed breath through his teeth and pushing off the wall to walk across the room towards her. Asharion recoiled some, swallowing, slightly intimidated by his lithe, strong form. From a distance he didn't bother her, but in close quarters it was a different story. He was a good head or so taller than her, though that wasn't unusual. As far as heights went, she was on the short side compared to most people. Zuko reached out, firmly wrapping one broad, strong hand around her forearm and lifted her arms up from her back. With the other, he pressed his fingers together tightly, hand flat and palm towards the ropes. A brief flash of heat enveloped her arms, just before the ropes slid from her wrists and fell to the floor, smoking. Zuko shifted, guiding her a step forward from the bed with his grip on her arm and shooting a thin wisp of flame to the ropes around her ankles. The second rope followed the first to the ground.

He stepped away, watching her, distrust evident in his features as he turned and walked to the door. "Come with me. Uncle, go… play Pai Sho or something," he said dismissively, knocking on the door and asking for it to be opened. The light clicking of a key in the lock, and the door swung silently open on oiled hinges. Zuko stepped over the threshold out into the hallway, turning as his uncle rose from the chair and gave a polite bow to Asharion. The older man turned and followed his nephew out, disappearing out of sight. His footsteps echoed quietly from the opening in the doorway, which Asharion stared at, one hand placed on the corner post of the bed to steady herself. Zuko looked at her, his gaze impatient.

"Are you coming or what?" he asked her.

"Uh.. y-yeah, of course," she stammered, walking across the room after a brief hesitation. The girl's steps were unsteady and unsure, her hand gripping the edge of the doorway for balance as she stepped out into the hall, eyes glancing at the two guards who stood at either side of the door. One wore a helmet; the other was without, water still dripping down his face and clothes. He had been one of those unlucky souls up on deck during the little 'incident'.

Zuko stepped to the side as the men swung the door shut behind her, the warm, amber light from the room disappearing and leaving them in a cold, dim hallway. Zuko walked briskly past, heading down one end, expecting the girl to follow.

"You're dismissed," he told the two men as he passed.

"You never answered my question," Asharion prompted, one hand staying in contact with the wall at all times. It had been weeks since she'd walked, and her muscles were making that quite clear to her.

Zuko was silent as they rounded the corner, stopping only to turn and impatiently watch her slower progress as she caught up to him. The ship gave a sudden lurch as the waves outside rolled against it, and Asharion's feet slid out from under her, hand falling from the wall as she landed on the ground with a loud 'oof!'.

"I hate ships," she stated, scowling, wrinkling her nose as she struggled to her feet.

"You don't have your sea legs yet," he replied offhandedly, turning and continuing down the hall. She followed, wary for another lurching movement of the floor beneath her.

"You're ignoring my question."

"Which would be?" he asked, grabbing the slim bar of a railing that was attached to a narrow set of steps. He let go as he began to walk up them, turning as he reached the top and looking down at her, arms folded across his chest.

"How did you make the fire?"

"I was born a firebender. It comes naturally," he stated, waiting for her to reach the top. Asharion made slower progress, huffing slightly, the gnawing hunger in her stomach a tight coil of pain.

"Can you teach me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"…how long were you shackled, anyways?" he muttered, more as a statement of his annoyance at her slowness and to change the subject than out of actual curiosity.

"A while. Your name is Zuko, right?"

"What of it?"

"It's a pretty name, is all."

_'Pretty?' _Zuko almost flinched, the faintest, rarest of blushes crossing his face at the unwanted and unexpected compliment. "Whatever," he snapped as a thank-you, turning to walk up the next flight of steps as she neared the top. "Hurry up, you're slow."

"I'm not slow, you're just abnormally fast."

"Shut up."

"Why are you so angry?" Asharion prodded, frowning slightly. "Lighten up."

"I'm not angry!" he barked sharply, glaring down at her before clenching his jaw and turning away.

"Coulda fooled me," muttered Asharion. Zuko ignored her as the ship gave another lurch, the girl's feet flying out from under her once more. She clung to the railing with a startled yelp, limbs scrambling to regain their balance. Zuko turned, jumping swiftly down the steps he had just climbed, and hauled her to her feet by the back collar of her vest.

As he did so, his fingers brushed some of the hair from her neck. He let go of the collar once she was standing, eyes catching onto a small mark of red on her skin-blood? Well, no matter. She'd speak up if she was seriously injured. A scratch was none of his worries.

They climbed the last three flights of steps. On the last one, Zuko finally, grudgingly, gave in and helped her up, one hand pressed firmly to small of her back.

"We're here," he stated, pushing open the door to the upper deck. As Asharion made to exit, Zuko's arm suddenly shot forward, hand firmly grasping the edge of the doorframe in front of her, barring her from egress. He leaned forward, closer, eyes locking onto hers with his golden eyes. His scar puckered and crinckled as he narrowed his eyes at her, fixing the woman with a warning glare.

"…one false move, and you're toast, do you understand me, Airbender?"

"And waterbender," she added, gulping and looking away from his gaze, skin crawling in apprehension. Zuko waited a moment longer, before letting out a heavy sigh. He removed his arm from the doorframe, gesturing to her to lead the way out. Asharion stepped out into the dreary-colored outdoors, her face lifting to look at the storm clouds that gathered overhead.

They blatantly forecasted a storm.

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**-~•*•*•~-**

_End of Chapter Two_

_(Because it looks cool to put this at the end of the page ;D)_


	3. Frustrations

Ok! Chapter three here for you; You guys don't think i'm posting too fast, do you? I have patience issues, and i'm excited about being able to post the chapters of the story. I have eight of them, so far. I know it would probably be wiser to sit back and update weekly or something, but I also sort of want to make up for the fact that very shortly, I will be going on a 3-4 week haitus.  
If you catch me making references to Zuko's "grandfather," I meant uncle. Iroh is just so grandfatherly! Sorry if these first few chapters seem sketchy or of poor quality-they should (hopefully!) be getting better down the road. I've had some help from people, and you know who you are. ;D

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******-~•*•*•~-**

**Chapter Three**

**Frustrations**

It was several hours later in the day that Zuko stepped out onto the deck again. His uncle had distracted him with some talk and food, which he had devoured hungrily after a period of time supervising the girl's work with water, and having missed breakfast due to the morning's events. Some of the men were milling about on deck, not unusual. What was there for them to do? The ship was on a stable course, sailing smoothly through the waters. It had been raining throughout the day on and off, and some of the crew were busy hauling the last of the precious water barrels below deck to put them in safe storage. A pang of alarm and frustration flashed through Zuko as he looked for the girl on deck, not finding her. He was just about to ask one of the crew members where she had gone, when a movement caught the corner of his eye. Spinning around, he saw her standing in an unusual stance for that of a water or air bender. It took him a split second to realize what she was doing. Her eyes were closed, focused, sweat dotting her pale skin as her hand shot forward and down, shaking, the other lifting up behind her head, one knee bent and the other leg sliding out and forward across the deck's surface. Her jerky movements and quivering body were indications of her hard work of earlier, and made the boy wonder how long she had been out of sight of the men, practicing this. It was one of the stances for fire bending.

"What are you doing?" he asked, honestly more curious than annoyed at the moment; though, Zuko being Zuko, it was very rare that his expression didn't resemble annoyance, anger, or frustration. He was too relieved to find her not causing any sort of havoc on his ship; he had been nervous about what she might do since the moment he'd freed her from those heavy shackles. They had been warning enough of her apparent powers. At his voice, the girl startled, her foot slipping out from under her as she fell back down against the deck. Just as quickly, she scrambled back onto her feet, leaning on the metal wall of the ship's cabin to steady herself, breathing heavily. Her cheeks blushed faintly, expression akin to one of a child caught stealing cookies from the jar before dinner.

"N-nothing," Asharion replied a little too quickly. Cripes, she was almost as terrible a liar as Zuko himself. The young man leaned against the metal wall, arms loosely folded across his chest as usual, eying her. After a moment, he raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing?" he repeated, watching her fidget nervously under his gaze. His eyes took note of her shaky legs and arms. He thought back to her comment on prison food. Exactly how often had they fed her, anyway? Probably not much, if at all. Zuko wasn't one to exactly pamper his prisoners-far from it, though the freedom and change of clothes the girl was currently getting were making him start to feel irritated once more with his uncle-but he didn't torture them for weeks on end, either.

"…are you here to taunt me, or are you worried i was going to try and-"

"Your stance was off," Zuko interjected halfway through her sentence, the slightest bit amused.

"-eh?" She blinked, voice stuttering to a halt. The girl was confused for a moment, looking down at the floor before turning away. "Whatever. So what now, back into the shackles and a nice cozy cell?"

"You worked longer than I expected you would. Kaite took inventory. We don't have to worry about running out of water or about delaying any longer with another trip to port."

"…your point is?" she replied tiredly.

"You've earned your keep. I'll have the cook set aside food for you."

"…" She looked up at him, as if unsure whether or not she should believe him, or more likely dreading the worst of the leftovers.

"Lunch is in about an hour," Zuko stated, glancing up at the skies overhead. His gaze flicked back as a stream of water rose up off the deck from gathered puddles, then shot out overboard and out of sight.

A long, lingering silence enveloped them, only seeming to be amplified by the distant chattering of the crew and the crash of the waves below. Smoke billowed up into the sky from the smokestack, joining the gloomy clouds above. A few droplets of rain fell, slowly picking up pace as the skies began to drizzle once more.

Asharion lifted her face, holding up a hand and moving her arms, forming a little umbrella of water over her head that the droplets of rain either joined or bounced off of, falling to the floor. She shifted, collecting some of the water in the air. Zuko watched, tensed, ready for any sudden attack. She had shown very few to no signs of hostility, but that didn't mean she wouldn't now. She pulled the water she'd collected away from above her head, forming it into one moving, fluid mass through the air. Her arms followed the movements of the water, like those of a snake or dragon curving and twisting through the air. After a few moments, the tip of the water seemed to shimmer, turning into the vague outline of a reptile's head. Zuko watched her bend with renewed, cautious interest, before shifting slowly into his own sideways stance, feet firmly placed on the ground below him as his foremost arm extended out in front of him, the other tucked up by his chest. He moved smoothly, breathing out in a steady, even breath, watching as his own snake of fire flared into existence with bright fury. It slithered through the air, chasing after and then flying in a loop around Asharion's water snake.

Mira shifted her weight, swinging her arms in a graceful sweep through the air in front of her as her wrists rotated, bringing her dragon to coil around and with the flames in the air, before letting hers rise up and away in a dizzying dance. Her breaths were heavy and strained, her body diving into the fluid motions of waterbending, fingertips almost numb. Even through her body's weakened state, her strength showed in the way her slim, sinewy form shifted through the motions of the dance-like gestures. She finally let the water fall formlessly through the air into the ocean below, breaking stance and leaning heavily against the railing. Zuko's dragon coiled around a few more times in midair as if looking for its lost partner, before shrinking away into nothingness.

"You should rest," he stated quietly, grudgingly, the spell of their shared bending moment long gone. As the ship gave another slow lurch, Asharion caught herself on whatever purchase her hands could find, boots slipping in the puddles that formed on the deck. She straightened, a tired, exhausted aura taking over her features as she looked towards him. Zuko had the sudden, self-conscious flare of mixed emotions as he felt her eyes settle on the scar over his left eye. He turned his face to the side, breaking the contact, eyes staring out with a hard gaze over the railing of the deck. "What?" he muttered, more of grumpy statement than a question.

"Just… your eye. I was wondering what happened to it."

"It's none of your business," he muttered harshly, voice tight as painful memories began to surface in his mind. Images flashed in his head, before Zuko suddenly turned, walking away without a word. He stopped to look over his shoulder at Asharion, expression inscrutably stony.

"Are you coming?" he snapped, the rain that had collected on his armor and clothes starting to steam with the unconscious heat that radiated from Zuko's body.

"Wasn't aware I was supposed to follow, flame-boy," she retorted, watching him scowl at the new nickname.

"Keep in mind that I can take back that offer of food, bender," he snapped back angrily, his bottled emotions threatening to surface. No, no he would not break down here. Not now. And so instead of confronting the emotions swirling like a giant mass of pain, loss, uncertainty, and confusion inside of him, Zuko turned these feelings into hate and rage, venting his fury out onto the girl who so stupidly dared to provoke him.

"I have a name," she retorted icily, her expression faltering at the thought of the lost rations. Truly, if he handed her a dead rat, she might just start eating it, raw. Ok, maybe that was a _little _exaggerated, but, hey, yeah. She was more than hungry; even ravenous was an understatement. In reply, Zuko turned away from her and began to walk away, steam further rising off of his shoulders as the cold rain made contact. Asharion waited a few moments, watching him leave until it was evident he would not reply, and shifted, testing her footing before following. For some reason, she had the oddest and possibly-make that definitely-suicidal urge to pester him. And somehow, this feeling felt... familiar, right. Like even memory loss could not shake a woman from her base instincts that instructed them that their sole purpose in life was to confuse, annoy, irritate, enrage, and inevitably drive men up a wall.

"Are you balding?" she finally asked, catching up to him as he stopped to push open the door to the ship's cabin. She still hadn't figured out his strange haircut-a smooth, bald head with a small square patch of midnight black hair in the back, tightly gathered up and bound into a ponytail. Somehow, this made his looks more intimidating, made him look older. Perhaps that was why he wore it.

Zuko stopped, angling his chest to face her, face showcasing his growing fury. His fist clenched tightly onto one of the handles of the turn-knob on the door, which was open the barest crack. Fabric and armor cleverly hid his chiseled muscles underneath his clothes, but one didn't need to see his body to feel the air around him crackle with his strength. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, eyes boring down into hers like burning hot coals, smoke blowing out his nostrils in a forced breath. She had successfully pissed off Zuko, though perhaps that really was as easily done as said. In a clearly furious tone of voice that was only just barely controlled, Zuko replied:

"Are you _trying _to get yourself back into metal shackles, or do you have an intelligent question to ask me, _Asharion?_"

Asharion let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, frozen under his fierce gaze and unabl to tear her widened eyes away from his. She opened her mouth to reply, but all that came out was a small breath of stuttered wind. Her heart was hammering inside her chest, breath catching. Zuko waited a moment longer before _'tch'ing' _and shoving the door the rest of the way open, arm outstretched. He waited, obviously expecting her to enter first. Asharion averted her gaze downward, feeling light-headed as she skittishly scampered past him through the open doorway, as far away from the man's intimidating form as possible. The image of his glare was burned into the back of her mind, haunting in its feral beauty.

They walked back down the narrow stairwell in deathly silence, the air near Zuko as hot as his uncooled temper. Halfway down, the ship gave a sudden lurch to the side in a steep rocking motion; Asharion's already shaky footing failed her as her hands grabbed for something to hold onto. In the rush of adrenalin, her heart nearly stopped out of shock when a warm hand was placed firmly on her shoulder. Zuko's strong grip was calm and supportive, but not in a comforting way. Fire seemed to burn at her insides, heating her blood and further tempting her frazzled and exhausted mind towards a panic. She gasped, heart skipping a beat as she straightened, jerking herself from his hold and stumbling clumsily down a step or two before collecting herself.

"D-don't do that," she blurted out before she could think clearly, an indignant, flustered blush consuming her already flushed cheeks. As if he was amused by her scared reaction, the heated hand returned to her shoulder, Zuko's long legs taking the few steps it took to bring him directly behind her back, close enough she could feel his body's radiating heat. He leaned down a touch, a cruel smirk playing across his features, vengeful in its twisted curl.

"Do _what_, now, exactly?" he whispered darkly, his warm breath hot against her cool skin as he spoke. Asharion's eyelids fluttered, mouth opening to stutter a reply. Her throat caught on the words, and nothing but a faint breath drifted from her parted lips. Fear gnawed at her insides, a shiver rippling down her spine. The firebender straightened, giving her a rough, short shove forward, his hand detaching from the tight grip on her shoulder. His touch still burned on her skin underneath the fabric of her vest and shirt, and it took her a moment to collect her thoughts enough to continue walking down the stairs in quicker, hurried steps. _'Do _that,' she thought as she walked, her own pattering steps far lighter than Zuko's heavy ones behind her.

They soon entered the hallway in which Asharion's room was located. Zuko walked ahead of her to its doorway, turning and watching Asharion's slower steps as she followed, her hand still lingering by the wall, lest she'd fall. "I'll have a guard bring you your food later," stated the young man flatly, opening the door to the cell, expecting his prisoner to enter. She did so, not wanting to provoke Zuko any further; who knows what he'd do to her then?

She sat heavily on the bed, the day's activity starting to take its toll. Her eyes flitted to meet Zuko's; he lingered in her doorway, eyes still ablaze with anger, before stepping away and letting the door swing shut with a heavy slamming noise. A soft rattling followed; the door was being locked shut. Asharion stayed put, eyes lingering warily on it, before her tired form collapsed on the bed, breaths shaking. Her muscles slowly unwound, one by one, her narrow chest rising and falling with heavy, shaking breaths. She shifted into a half-sitting position, looking around the room before pulling herself up onto the mattress. After being suspended just above the ground by chains hooked onto her previously-worn metal accoutrements, the stiff mattress felt like she was sleeping on a cloud; too soft, too 'plushy.' With a frustrated huff, the girl suddenly sat up, letting herself slide down off the bed and onto the metal floor. She held off much-needed sleep just long enough to pull the scarlet blanket off the bed, curling up into a small ball under it and closing her eyes tightly, using her arm as a pillow.

-~•*•*•~-

Asharion woke some time later with a loud, terrified shriek and yanked the blanket from her form; the cloth fell discarded and forgotten off to the side, a corner of it still draped over her legs. Her heart pounded, sweat dripping down her neckline and sticking to her clothes as she gasped for air, eyes wide open in fear, chest shaking with her ragged breaths. Her limbs quivered as she pulled her knees up to her chest, bowing her head and breaking out into heavy sobs. Her tears soaked into the soft red fabric of her pants, body quivering as the girl tried to forget the terrible dream that had woken her. She felt vulnerable and scared, her weak limbs helpless against the images her mind had conjured. This wasn't the first nightmare she'd had since being held captive, and it wouldn't be the last. Asharion closed her eyes tightly, trying to stop the waterfall of tears that spewed from her eyes, brows furrowing. Desperately trying to calm herself down, she took deep, shuddering breaths before letting the withheld air out through parted lips in a heavy sigh. _'C-calm down. Jus... just a dream. A dream, that's all.'_

The distraught girl nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden rattle of a key in the door's lock. She had no time to compose herself before it swung open and Zuko burst into the room. Tears still clung to her cheeks and snot dribbled from her nose, her eyes swollen and red. It was maybe an hour after he'd left her; his voice was apprehensive as he spoke. "I heard screaming. What's going o-" He stopped, noticing the state of her hair, her expression, the fact that she was still shaking. His expression went from annoyed to confused. "Is there something wrong?" he said a little stupidly; if there was nothing wrong, his prisoner wouldn't be curled on the floor, crying her eyes out.

Asharion shook her head, bringing an arm up and vainly wiping at the tears that still poured down her cheeks, dripping from her jawline and soaking into her clothes.

"N-nothing. I'm fine." she snapped lamely, her voice choked and strained. The girl shifted, angling away from him to viciously wipe at one eye with the palm of her hand. Zuko watched, hand frozen on the doorway, one foot into the room and one out, unsure of what to do next. He felt an odd tug in his chest, rare for Zuko; he was sympathetic, wanting to help. -Help? What should he _help _her for? She was a prisoner on board his ship, a dangerous being with bending capabilities that were just as dangerous. He had witnessed firsthand what a powerful airbender could do to attack, and like firebending, it did not require any source that wasn't always readily available. He realized with much chagrin that he could have walked right into a trap, as she had full freedom of movement and could have attacked the moment he burst into the room. The firebender mentally scolded himself, his previously confused expression once again replaced with his customary mood of choice; brows furrowed and lips tugged down into a severe frown.

"...Kaite brought your food," Zuko finally said, voice bordering on monotone as he stepped back into the hall and off to the side to let the other man in. Kaite stepped inside, holding a flat metal tray. On it was a bowl of rice, chopsticks, a meager roll of bread, and a cup of water. The latter was not something he would customarily provide a waterbender with-it was too blatant a source for them to use to attack with, but he didn't have much of a choice. Though, really, she could use her own tears or sweat as bending material, and she'd had the perfect opportunity for a strike earlier on deck during the rain. His scowl deepened at the thought; was he growing careless?

Asharion didn't turn as the man set the tray down on the floor, straightened, and backed out of the room. The door shut with a cold clunk that resonated throughout the small room. Footsteps sounded, before fading away off into the hallway and out of earshot. Zuko stayed put outside the room, silent, leaning calmly against the wall beside the door with his eyes clenched shut and arms folded tightly across his torso. He listened, ears straining for any noise coming from inside. It was hard to hear through the thick metal wall and door, but after some time had passed the sobbing resumed. He let out a withheld breath of air through his nostrils in a deep sigh, forcing himself to relax. Zuko didn't really have a reason for staying; perhaps boredom had taken over his mind and led him to relieve his men of guard duty, instead taking it up himself. Or perhaps there was another reason, one he himself neither knew of nor would admit to if he did. For an immeasurable length of time, the crying continued, until finally dying down to soft sniffles at first, then dying out completely. Silence followed, and time ticked away.

"Prince Zuko, I was wondering where you had been."

The familiar voice broke the stony silence that lingered in the hall. Iroh's surprisingly silent footsteps had brought him to stand a few feet away from Zuko and the doorway, looking first at him and then to the metal door. "You look lost in thought. Is something bothering you?" the old man asked, his calm, gravely voice echoing slightly in the dimly lit hallway. Zuko's eyes opened as he lifted his head to look at at his uncle, amber eyes dark.

"No. I was just thinking," he replied. His voice was soft and distant, hushed, even, hanging in the air like the calm before a furious storm.

"I heard that there was commotion in Asharion's room earlier. Is everything all right?" Iroh continued, hands tucked into the long sleeves of his tunic as he observed his nephew's reaction.

"It was nothing of concern." Zuko's voice was cold and final, brushing off the past event and taking it with a grain of salt.

"For some reason, I seem to be viewing her as more of a member of the crew than a prisoner," Iroh began thoughtfully, his calm gaze warning his nephew from speaking when Zuko cast an accusing look his way.

"I'm sure it must be strange for her, to have no memories of anything but being held prisoner in iron shackles, men taunting and laughing at her." He paused, waiting to see if his company was actually listening. This affirmed by Zuko's suspicious gaze meeting his, he continued on. "She doesn't know anything of the war that has been going on for a hundred years, or why General Zhao and his men took her captive. To know nothing of your enemy, nor yourself, and be taken away and treated cruelly must be so confusing, so frustrating. I see it as no surprise she woke from a nightmare." He gave a pause, sighing. Something in the way he did this raised a small alarm in Zuko's ever-sharp mind: his uncle wanted something. What, he didn't know; not yet, at least.

"Uncle, what are you getting at?" he prodded warily, deciding to humor the old man.

"I would like to teach her how to play Pai Sho." he replied with all the forwardness of an old man. His nephew's eyes flashed with immediate denial of his uncle's request, but Iroh interjected.

"Perhaps giving the girl a chance to trust us could lead you to an airbender to _practice with._ It could give you an upper hand in defeating the Avatar. Prince Zuko, I highly suggest you look at the possibilities of this girl's usefulness; I think it was an act of fate that she ended up aboard our humble ship."

The part of Zuko's mind that was solely dedicated to anything relating to the Avatar immediately sprung into focus, running over thoughts and ideas in his head. She shoved them away with a short 'tch,' looking from his uncle to the darkness down the opposite end of the hall, eyes distant and thoughtful, and somehow reluctant.

"Uncle, she's a water and air ben-"

"And you are a firebender, Prince Zuko."

"I don't see how she anything to do with that," he snapped back, glowering at the old man. He could be so infuriating sometimes, and while not as outwardly obstinate as the teenage boy was, Iroh had his own subtle, finer-tuned traits of stubbornness. It must run in the family.

"No," Zuko finally stated, his tone final.

"I think having a loyal waterbender on this ship could be more useful than you know. I bet she would also make a great pot of tea if I taught her how, and it would be refreshing to have a new face to play Pai Sho with. Some of your men are becoming increasingly apprehensive of getting their butts kicked,' he added with a grin.

This merited a not-so-subtle rolling of the eyes and a scoff from Zuko, who thought the idea preposterous and rash. Well, coming from him that thought was almost laughable; the prince was well-known to his crew for his rash decisions and bursting into action without thinking things through.

"Not even for one rou-" Iroh began, a guilt-tripping expression on his face and tone in his voice.

"_No!" _Zuko turned his head to glare threateningly at uncle Iroh, lips pulling up into a snarl and muscles tightening. A furious wisp of smoke escaped his lips as he spoke, further adding to the boy's intimidating nature. Iroh seemed to wait for a few, quiet moments, as if hoping the small amount of time passing would change Zuko's mind. It didn't, and soon the old man gave in, letting out a wistful, heavy sigh. For some reason, most likely from instinct and past experience, Zuko doubted this would be the last he heard of this discussion as he stalked down the hallway, his rage far from quelled.

Inside the room, a curled Asharion sat by the door, listening to the heavy, angry footsteps fade away. She had been able to make out very few words of the conversation besides Zuko's yells, and yet she somehow knew it pertained to none other than herself. So far, she liked the old man; he'd been nothing but courteous to her, even though she was, for all intents and purposes, a dangerous prisoner.

The girl sighed, pushing her bangs out of her face, and lifted her eyes to look at the tray of food that had been set down for her. It was about three times as much food as Zhao had fed her; and that had only been every three days or so. Earlier, her tears had preoccupied her; but now Asharion's hunger came back more strongly than ever, and she crawled on her hands and knees to the tray, where she immediately began to devour her serving. Scarcely five minutes later, and there wasn't a single grain of rice or crumb left, as if the food had never been. She yawned, pushing the empty tray towards the door without leaving her cross-legged position on the floor.

**-~•*•*•~-**

Zuko entered his room, slamming the door shut behind him. He was just so _angry_. What was his crazy uncle _thinking_? She was a prisoner-a very, very _dangerous _prisoner. It was nothing but ridiculous to think of letting her out; she'd try to escape! Wouldn't she?

The banished prince walked to one of the cold metal walls in his room and kicked it, hard, a little blast of flame and puff of smoke rushing out with the impact. His fists were clenched, eyes shut tightly in fury, as he smacked the wall again, this time with a fist followed by a bigger whorl of flame and an angry shout. God, he was just so _mad_! Chest heaving, miniscule droplets of sweat glistening on his brow, he stood back, forcing himself to stop. Leaving all these black marks of soot on the walls would get him nowhere. And yet...

Zuko stalked to his bed, falling heavily on to it and landed on his back, legs still hanging off the edge. He glared at the ceiling, as if everything was its fault.

The young man considered himself cursed with emotion, so many feelings, more than he knew what to do with. Most of the time, he kept them tightly locked away in his mind, out and away so no one could see them or even know they were there. He had a heart, yes; but he kept it locked in an iron cage. The only bit of expression he let out was his anger, the hot consuming fury that built up inside him and threatened to tear him to pieces. Anger was justified. He'd been banished from his country, from his coveted seat at his father's right hand as the Prince of the Fire Nation, at the mere fault of an accident; of course he was angry. He would be insane if he weren't. And so anger was what he let escape. He answered everything with fury; it was the only way he knew how.

There were noises outside his room, distant and muffled. Everyday sounds, but for some reason his mind chose to mark these as important. He scoffed, rolling over onto his side with one arm tucked under his head, glaring out into space. Thoughts and questions and memories still churned like hot magma in the firebender's head, further prompting his fury. He didn't want to think about these things; why had his uncle been such a stupid fool-hearted old man and traded such precious information for another mouth to feed? Leaving her in Zhao's custody would have been the smart choice; his trip to take her to wherever it is she was destined for would have delayed him from the search for the Avatar. He remembered his uncle's words, allowing their calm sound to break through his hot fury enough so he could calm down and think straight. The girl apparently remembered nothing of her past life; she could have been anyone, anything. An assassin, a homeless peasant, a rich nobleman's daughter. Not that that was any of his concern; a prisoner's past life didn't concern him more than being enough to justify their capture.

But that was just what uncle Iroh was getting at, wasn't it? "Stupid old man," he muttered, closing his eyes and trying to block out the now flowing stream of thoughts. Why had he even bothered to humor his uncle's words in the first place? Now they would just add to the collection of turmoil in his head. Zuko shifted, pressing his face down into the mattress and suddenly wishing he could sleep, something so well needed and so scarce for him. Maybe that was something he and Asharion had in common; sleep issues. His dreams were haunted with disturbing thoughts and painful memories from his past, uncertainty and confusion for the future and present. They brought up things that he would rather lock up into a tight cage alongside his heart and forget about them. Was this why his father viewed him as weak? He couldn't win in a battle over his own emotions? A sudden, perturbed thought flashed across his mind; he hadn't been having issues with these thoughts and feelings until that wretched Avatar-wannabe had come across to his ship. The answer to his problem was simple; get rid of her.

And yet, it was the fault of that image of the girl in his head that stopped the thought in its tracks. When he had heard her terrified screams and rushed to see what was going on, he hadn't found her getting kidnapped or getting mauled by a tigerhorse or anything; he had found her curled on the floor, shaking and vulnerable, tears pouring down her face. She'd looked so upset, so wretched, and he'd basically just deserted her; he hadn't even tried to help. And, for just the smallest, most insignificant moment, he had wanted to. A small wave of guilt passed over him, before Zuko growled, shoving the unwanted feeling away, jumping up from the bed and began to pace restlessly around his room. Occasionally he would snarl, punching into the air and watching the furious flames flicker and engulf the air they shot out into, before dwindling away as fast as they had come. He muttered a few quiet curses, trying to think of something he could do. Suddenly, he paused. His mind came to the realization that he was horrendously, unquestionably _bored_. Bored out of his mind kind of bored. Insanely bored. Bored enough to have the odd urge to ask his uncle for a cup of tea and sit down and have a ta-ok, yeah, he needed to get a hold of himself. The frustrated young man sighed, deciding not to wear a hole in the floor, and sat heavily on his bed. What to do, what to do...

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**-~•*•*•~-**

_End of Chapter Three_


	4. Company

Another update, same day, ;D I think I will be simply posting all of the chapters that Rikki and I have done so far. Technically, we have two chapters done and one in the process of being so, each one getting progressively longer. I mentioned before; I'm splitting them up to make then FanFiction size-appropriate. This chapter is pretty short, but the next few will make up for it. It was hard at some points, trying to figure out where best to break off the chapters was, so I hope I did ok!

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**-~•*•*•~-**

**Chapter Four**

**Company**

Asharion looked up someone knocked on her door. A soft, kind, familiar voice came, asking if it was all right to enter. The girl couldn't help but smile a bit at the thoughtful courtesy; she gave a nod, though the man couldn't see that. "Sure, doors open if you have a key," she replied, turning to face the doorway. She was sitting beside the bed on the blanket which she had laid down as a sort of mat; her legs were criss-crossed. Iroh pulled open the door, grinning.

"I was wondering if you would be interested, Asharion, in learning a game called _Pai Sho._" Two men stood behind him, one hand holding a kettle of steaming tea, the other a small platter with three cups on it. Three? That was odd, but she didn't question. The other man carried a round table with four short legs.

"Um... sure, is it hard to play?" she asked, eyes brightening with curiosity. Iroh smiled, moving aside to let the other two men in. The girl wondered if one of them was staying, which would make sense of the extra cup. Instead, the two guards merely set the board and tea stuff down on the floor, giving bows before turning and walking out. The door closed with a soft click and rushing of air, before footsteps echoed down the hall. They weren't locking the door? Thoroughly confused now, the captive woman sat in wait, her eyes flicking curiously to the faded red board for Pai Sho and then back to Iroh, who was looking at her with a thoughtful expression.

"...um... is something wrong?" she asked, fidgeting under his gaze. Iroh shook his head, and gestured for her to stand.

"In the Fire Nation, where I come from, when one receives a guest they would stand and give a bow to them, like so." he instructed, showing her how. Asharion nodded, standing up, and copying what she had seen him do. "Like this?" She asked, glancing down at her hands. At Iroh's nod, she grinned, a small flicker of excitement rising inside her at the newly learned etiquette.

"So how do we play?" she asked, walking over to peer at the board. After a moment, she reached out with a hesitant hand towards it. Iroh walked over to the opposite side, taking his seat down in a cross-legged position. Hearing no objection, Asharion brushed her fingertips across its smooth, almost soft, worn surface. Iroh pulled from his tunic two cloth bags, handing one across the table to her. She accepted it, the things inside of it making soft clicking noises as the objects moved around.

"Game pieces?" she asked, peeking down into the bag.

"You have a mind as sharp as your beauty. There are four different types of tiles; red flowers, white flowers, non-flowers, and special tiles. The two special tiles are known as the White Lotus and the White Dragon. This game is about strategy; placing and moving or removing your's or your opponents Pai Sho pieces to create 'harmonies'. Harmonies are lines of flower tiles that harmonize with each other. You can create a disharmony by having tiles that do not go with each other next to one another." As he spoke, Iroh was removing tiles from his bag and placing them on the board, giving examples of the harmonies and disharmonies. He also placed out the White Dragon and the Lotus flower pieces. This done, Iroh began to explain the names and properties of each tile. For example, all pieces that are next to knotweed orthogonally, or at a right angle to, are dead.

"Alright, so i can either place one of the pieces, rotate the board clockwise with a wheel tile, move one of the tiles, or pass my turn?" At Iroh's nod, she beamed.

"Ok, i think i've got this."

"Are you a fan of tea?" the older man asked as he reached for the pot and a cup, pouring a glass of the dark, steaming liquid. Asharion shrugged-if she wasn't or was, she couldn't remember.

"I don't know, but i'm willing to try just about anything at least once."

"That is a good mind-set to have. Jasmine tea is one of my favorites," he began, passing her the cup. She accepted it, looking down into the murky liquid with interest, breathing in its potent smell. It wasn't half bad. Asharion waited until Iroh had poured his own cup, before taking a tentative sip. The hot drink singed her lips and tongue, but the flavor was delicious; her eyes widened a touch and glimmered excitedly, a happy blush crossing her cheeks as she drank down a careful swallow of the tea.

"It's delicious!" she stated, grinning. Iroh beamed with an easy, pleased expression as he set his cup down on the floor beside him. He shifted, lifting his head and glancing back to the door, a knowing smirk-like cast to the corners of his mouth. Iroh lifted a hand, stroking his beard in thought.

"Mmm... I think we will have some company, soon." Asharion gave him a confused look, before turning her gaze to the metal door, wondering who the old man was expecting for company.

* * *

-~•*•*•~-

_End of Chapter Four_


	5. Quarreling

A little note about this chapter, and the following one;  
Elations, these two are dedicated to you. Your story is what inspired the coming scene, ;D I think it will make sense to you in the next chapter. And about the quarreling between Asharion and Zuko; i hope i kept them in character enough, although Asharion is my charrie. Opinions and idea's on the fighting is well appreciated; Rikki and I will love you forever!

Also; Do you think the rating on this story is appropriate? We had some issues trying to figure out what to label it as.

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******-~•*•*•~-**

**Chapter Five**

**Quarreling**

Where was that old man, anyways? Zuko thought in frustration, walking down the hall and poking his head into rooms. It seemed his uncle always pestered and nagged at him to spend some time together, and the moment Zuko was actually in the rarest of moods to do so, the man up and vanished. Frustrated, the angtsy firebender finally had to stop one of the guards walking on patrol in the hallway and ask. The man said he didn't know, and would keep an eye out for him.

"Where could he be? There's nowhere else for him to g-" Zuko stopped dead in his tracks, a horrified, enraged expression slowly materializing on his handsome face. _"No,"_ he breathed, before suddenly turning on his heels and rushing down the hall. Several flights of steps and bursts of fire later, Zuko was furiously walking down the narrow hallway to the prisoner's room. It was all he could do not to stomp his feet in his anger; he was not a child, and he would not act like one. Zuko slammed open the door to Asharion's room just as Iroh had finished pouring a third cup of tea, turning with an infuriatingly calm smile to face him, holding the tea kettle in one hand and the cup in the other, offering it up to him.

"Uncle, what do you think you are _doing?"_ he barked harshly, voice rising to ring throughout the room, disbelief in his expression. How could the old man do this to him, right after Zuko had made it very clear what his answer was?

"Asharion and I were just having a pleasant talk about you. She makes quite the Pai Sho beginner," he added, a smile on his face. The two men's atmospheres seemed to crackle in the air like polar opposites; Zuko's raging fury hotter than fire itself and Iroh's calm, cool persona like the quiet babbling of a peaceful brook in the tranquility of an ancient forest. Asharion swallowed, still clutching onto her cup of tea in both hands with a nervous, tight grip. Her eyes flicked at first to the fearsome, unpredictable and unstable-seeming man who had just burst into the room; then back to the calm old man, his patience like an anchor in a sea of uncertainty.

"What if something happened? What if she tried to kill you?" Zuko shouted as if she wasn't there, waving an arm through the air that led a trail of fire, emphasising his words. His voice cracked in the middle of speaking. The unsettled turmoil and emotions inside of him had not since cooled from his tantrum earlier; they threatened to break loose. At these words, Asharion suddenly jumped up, her cup of tea falling to the ground with a loud cracking noise, the liquid inside spilling out over the floor and splashing onto her boots. Tears dotted the corner of her eyes, hands clenched into tight fists by her side.

"And what if I _didn't?_" she demanded, body shaking with the emotions bubbling up from inside of her. "What if the only person I wanted to kill on this ship was myself? Because all I know is that everyone hates me, apparently I'm some wicked witch from the far ends of the world who deserves nothing more to suffer and rot away in some dark, dank chamber where not even sunlight reaches! Can you tell me why, Prince _Zuko_?" She sneered his name, hands shaking. Zuko turned to her, eyes widening for a split second before turning into glaring coals of hot amber orbs. Iroh made to rise, a slight frown on his face, one hand lifting in preparation for any bending attacks from either of the two young teens.

"Shut u-" Zuko began, but was cut short by an even louder, more emotionally distraught voice.

"No, _you _shut up! " Asharion yelled, hands arcing in a downward swipe through the air, feet stomping firmly on the ground as they shifted into a strong stance. "All you ever do is mope around and pout and talk about finding some stupid avatar. I wish I could wipe that infuriating scowl off your face and replace it with something better, you're wasting away in this hole of a ship and taking your anger out on everybody e-" Another swipe of her arms as she took a step closer to him, tears threatening to fall down her face, eyes burning fury inside their pale and dark blue depths. Iroh jumped out of the way as fire ripped through the air in a furious inferno, scorching his Pai Sho table in the process. _Asharion's_ fire. The girl didn't even seem to notice it, however; she was too distraught. Zuko swept his own arm, diminishing her fire and shooting a whorl of his own out at her feet, breaking her body's balance with the stable ground.

"You know _nothing _about me, nothing about my life or the humiliation and pain I've suffered!" His voice cracked again, his body's lithe, muscular form quivering at the words he spat back with just as much venom and rage as hers. In all his fury, his mind was too caught up to even notice that the women had firebended.

"It's all about you, isn't it! Well, you know nothing about _me_, either!" Her voice, loud with anger, hung in the air, lingering in the charged atmosphere, suspended in the thick angry air, and bore itself down into the very bones of the people in the room, seeping into every fiber and thought.

"The last thing I want to do is kill someone!" she continued, voice finally beginning to falter, tears overflowing and streaming down her cheeks. "Iroh is a good man! Th-the last thing I'd ever want to do is hurt him," she finished, voice dying down to a soft, shaky murmur. Zuko scowled, lips pulling back into a ferocious snarl like that of a lion, his strength emanating in the air like a powerful and unpredictable dragon. He turned to his uncle, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"Uncle, we are leaving, _now,_" he added, letting out a heavy, forced breath. Smoke whooshed out from his clenched teeth and nose like an angry dragon.

"I-I challenge you to an Agni Kai!" Asharion suddenly blurted, body trembling with the words. She swallowed, her stammered words flitting meekly out into the air, like a death sentence on her tongue. She didn't even know what an Agni Kai was, or where the words had come from, but regretted them the moment they left her lips. Maybe she had just been trying to get his attention back, remind him she was still here. Well, unfortunately for her, it worked, because Zuko's scalding gaze returned to her, chin lifting at the challenge. He straightened up to his full height, muscles filling out his intimidating uniform sharply.

"Typically women aren't allowed in Agni Kais," he began, voice as dark as the most haunting shadows, eyes narrowing to thin slits, "but I think an exception can be made."

"Prince Zuko-!" Iroh tried to intervene, shock and horror flashing across the old man's face. The boy held up a hand to silence him, not so much as glancing his uncle's way. Iroh looked first from his nephew to the young, suddenly very frail and fragile-looking woman, then back and forth between the two. This was getting out of hand, but he couldn't think of anything to do to stop it. Asharion suddenly stilled, biting her lip, unable to tear her eyes away from the prince's intense, fiery stare.

"Um... what is an Agni Kai, exactly?"

Zuko's glaring fury abruptly lessened when he raised an eyebrow, eyes widening slightly, as if he couldn't believe her question. However, the confusion quickly evaporated, Zuko's face bearing his usual angry scowl once more. "It's a firebending duel. What else?"

"...can you teach me to firebend, first, then?" she asked, almost a touch pathetically.

"I think she showed promising skill, Prince Zuko," Iroh said to break the following silence. He pinched out the burning tip of his beard, which sizzled and died out, a thin wisp of smoke rising into the air. Zuko flashed his uncle a confused look, further provoked in his fury, before stilling, eyes widening, his attention snapping back to the girl; he took in her features, as if his gaze could turn her into a young, twelve-year-old boy with a bald head and blue tattoos. She looked nothing like Aang; she had a skin color caught between being either tanned or very pale, a soft amber-like cast to it; and soft, disheveled brown hair fell down either side of her face, long strands of it constantly falling into her eyes and obstructing his view of them. Her eyes themselves were different enough; the Avatar's were a soft hazel, but hers were two opposite shades of blue. Besides that, her figure had a boyishly feminine cast to it, her subtle and yet prominent curves accented by the clothes she wore. Even so, his mind made the connection in a sudden epiphany, as if all other thoughts had come to a halt:

She had airbended, waterbended, and in her fury of shouting at Zuko her arms had conjured furious, raging whirlwinds of fire into being. The only element she fell short of was earth- but who knew, since being brought on board she had been nowhere near the substance, surrounded by metal. His stance relaxed, eyes scrutinizing every inch of her appearance. Asharion shifted, suddenly uncomfortable under his searching gaze, and took a step back, eyes flicking up to meet his. "...what?"

Zuko was caught with a difficult choice. He could either leave the girl here, her status as their prisoner remaining the same; or test his convictions that she was, indeed, a second Avatar, and teach her the way of fire. Perhaps, once they finally reached land on the path to their destination, he could figure out whether her abilities extended to earth. If they did-why, he could abandon this entire crazy wild-goose chase and use her as a convenient substitute to restore his honor. And yet, as her peculiar, mismatching blue eyes met his golden amber ones, something in the back of his mind told him it was a bad idea. Zuko abruptly turned away, starting to pace. Asharion watched him with apprehensive curiosity. Sitting back down in his chair, as it seemed that the danger had more or less passed, Iroh looked from Asharion to his darkly thoughtful nephew.

"...you're thinking. That's a scary notion in itself," Asharion hesitantly said, eyes watching him with suspicion as he paced.

Zuko ignored the girl's comment, too caught up in his own thoughts to care. In his hands was the perfect opportunity to regain everything in his life he had lost, the chance of fate he had been yearning for for three long years; Asharion could be his ticket back home. _Home. _The word echoed almost tauntingly in his mind, drawing him in. It had been three years since he'd seen his father's face; three years since he'd set foot on Fire Nation soil. But something didn't feel right about this; even if she could bend all four elements, that didn't mean she was the avatar. And then there were his wretched morals; that flickering flame of sympathy and good inside him that said it was a bad idea. Or perhaps... an avatar to fight against another avatar? This woman could already bend three-well, two, but she _had_ bended fire, even if she hadn't noticed or realized that yet-elements, and as far as he knew, Aang only knew how to bend one; air.

Asharion had a very short attention span. She turned away from Zuko and stooped down to pick up the cup she'd dropped, water-bending the liquid back into it. Waste not want not, after all. She sipped the now cooled tea, draining the clay dish and handing it to Iroh with a bow. "Where's the bathroom?" She asked, beginning to fidget. It had been hours since she'd gone, and now that she had eaten and was awake and moving around, she really, really needed to pee.

Zuko ignored her again, still lost in thought. Iroh, however, answered her. "Go to the right down this hallway; it's the last door on the left." He glanced at Zuko before looking back to Asharion. "When you're finished, come back here." It seemed that Iroh planned to trust her; she may as well take the opportunity now, while Zuko was more or less preoccupied.

Asharion thanked the old man, and, with a short bow, left the room. The clank of the door falling shut startled Zuko out of his reverie, and he suddenly realized that she was missing. He looked, wearing an expression of angry panic, to his uncle, who simply smiled slightly and shook his head, giving a little shrug of his shoulders. A furious growl rose up from the prince's throat, his eyes widening at what his uncle had done. Zuko immediately bolted from the room, his eyes quick to find Asharion; she was already halfway down the hall.

"STOP!" he shouted, taking off down the corridor after her. The startled Asharion let out a yelp and took off running down the corridor, away from the frightening man. "B-BUT I NEED TO PEE!" she yelled over her shoulder, eyes wide and a flustered blush on her face. She had the advantage of precious distance and a head start, and reached the door seconds before Zuko could catch up to her. She threw the door open and bolted inside, letting it slam shut behind her and quickly turning the lock. The little bathroom was cramped, containing only a toilet, sink, and a small shower.

Zuko reached the door, and banged on it with both fists, fire flaring out onto the thick metal. "Open up!" he snarled, rage consuming his face. How could his uncle had been so... so stupid? Stupid, _stupid_ old man! Weren't old people supposed to be at least a_ little_ smarter_?_

"Give a girl her privacy, pervert!" Asharion shouted back, quickly going about her business, concerned about the door suddenly bursting open. Back in the room, Iroh was uncontrollably laughing, tears dotting the corners of his old eyes. In his long years, he had seen many things. But a man -his nephew, of all people- chasing a woman down the hallway to stop her from using the bathroom was just too hilarious to ignore, and Asharion's voice was loud enough to carry down the hall. Many words could be used to describe the young prince, but he had never considered 'perverted' to be one of them. Zuko furiously slammed his fist against the door again, further startling the girl inside. After an impossibly long minute and the flushing of a toilet, water sounded. Zuko tipped his head back in a frustrated, impatient groan, just before the door cracked open. He fell silent, waiting, watching as she cautiously peered out into the hallway to look for him. Zuko stood behind her gaze, arms folded tightly across his chest. No sooner than she'd stepped out into the hall, a rough hand grabbed her arm and jerked her away from the door, slamming it shut with a fist. The girl let out a startled yelp, trying to pull herself out of his grasp.

Enraged and annoyed at her sudden attempts of escape, Zuko abruptly spun in his tracks, coming to an immediate halt and slamming her brutally against the wall of the hallway, pinning her there with his hands locked onto either side of her ams. He leaned down, a feral snarl curling on his lips and boiling rage cindering in his amber eyes. Asharion's eyes widened in terror, pressing herself as far as she could away from him. In result the man only leaned closer, his boiling anger rolling off his body in waves. A burning heat curled around her cold form, making her shudder and flinch away, eyes clenching shut, head scrunching down between her shoulder, a small whining noise rising up the back of her throat. Even under the water where she couldn't swim, Asharion had never been so utterly terrified in her life. Well, that is to say what she could remember it. So a correction; In the past four weeks of her life, she had never been so terrified. When Zuko spoke, his breath rushed over her face in a burning heat, his voice capturing the very essence of fire; Furious and calm all at the same time, a low, rumbling growl like the crackle of flames, igniting itself into existence to travel through the silent hall and ring in her ears, hauntingly beautiful and terrifyingly close.

"As of today, I'm not letting you out of my _sight_, Avatar. You're going back into that room and _staying_ there, and you will not leave unless I'm the one who lets you out. The next time I catch you walking away on your own, there will be nothing left of your body but charred, blackened remains.

Asharion said something very quietly, just a mumble.

"What was that?" growled Zuko.

"I said, I'm not the Avatar."

"_I don't care," _he replied with a snarl, yanking her away from the wall and all but dragging her back down the hall. When he reached the door, Iroh was still inside, frowning, drinking his tea. Zuko's eyes caught fury, and he shot an arm out, a rolling inferno of a blast of red-hot fire aiming consuming the Pai Sho board and turning it to cinders. Iroh moved just as quickly, jumping in front and crossing an arm down in front of himself, abolishing the offending flames in their tract. Zuko looked about ready to kill someone-namely Asharion, but his uncle was next on the list-and let out a shout, jerking the door shut with a slam of his wrist. He did not lock the door; that would be pointless, and he was too enraged and consumed with fury to think clearly enough to do so. Instead he turned, yanking on the girl's arm were bruises were already starting to form. She let out a pained gasp, following, biting back tears as he hauled her up the steps with him, not caring when she slipped and stumbled. He kept up his brisk and infuriated (XD)pace, his body livid and seething with uncompromising anger.

Zuko had said he wouldn't let her out of his sight-so where better to put her? Where he could keep an eye on her. The prince stomped up the final flight of stairs, jerking the girl into a standing position when she tripped on the last step. He dragged her down the wider hallway, past several doors before stopping at one and opening it. He shoved her inside, slamming the door shut and locked the door. "Stay there and _rot._" he growled vehemently under his breath, walking away just long enough to retrieve a chair from another room. If he was going to be staying here all the time, he might as well get comfortable.

**-~•*•*•~-**

Asharion stumbled into the room after tripping over the threshold and Zuko shoved her inside, the spot where his hands had held her arms in a vice grip bruised and ringing with pain. She landed on the floor with a loud thud, knocking the wind out of her as she closed her eyes momentarily, trying to recollect her thoughts. She'd been wondering, honestly, exactly what Zuko was like when he _really _lost his temper; now she knew. She lifted her head, cautiously pushing herself off the floor to look around, heartbeat still racing frantically in her chest. A momentary wave of shock rolled over her; the room was considerably larger than her previous one, maybe two times the size of it. Confused, she looked around, taking in the tapestries on the wall and the small, flickering lamps with little flames that cast a soft, dim amber glow around the room. A bed was shoved up to the side of the wall, and there was a trunk and dresser as well as a small nightstand by the bed. She looked around, then back to the door with a nervous glance; this room felt lived in, and she had her suspicions by who. After a moment, she walked over to the dresser, carefully opening one of the drawers. It slide open with a silent rolling noise, and she lifted some of the top layers of clothes to peek around inside. Red and black silks touched her fingers, some hemmed with gold lining and some without. After a moment, she looked down at her own clothes, before glancing back at the door. Well, then.

With a smirk, Asharion began rifling through the various woven garments, before pulling out a black tunic with a button down front and gold trim. The clasps to close the shirt were little gold rectangles of fabric with buttons sewn onto their ends. The girl lay this down on top of the dresser, opening the next drawer and looking around in it before withdrawing a pair of long, baggy black pants. This, too, she lay down atop the polished wood surface next to the shirt.

Zuko shifted in his chair, tilting his head. He could hear rummaging noises coming from inside the room, and realized with a pang of annoyance and irritation that it may not have been the best idea to store her in _his_ room. What had been been thinking? With a heavy sigh he realized that was his issue; he hadn't been thinking. Pushing up from his chair, he placed a hand on the door, before letting go another sigh. He had to cool his temper before he went in there, he needed to be able to think straight. Taking several deep, calming breaths, the boy finally put the key to the small slot. The slim metal rod with a few prongs on the end was silent as it turned in the lock, and Zuko gave the door a brisk shove. It swung open silently, and Zuko set inside, looking to one side of the room as he closed the door behind him with a quiet slamming noise. He had yet to see the girl, and turned his attention at a loud, startled gasp.

Asharion yelped when she heard a sudden slamming noise, in the process of changing into the clothes she'd found. Her fingers halted on the golden clasp, three down from her neckline. Thankfully, the shirt was too big for her, dropping down to almost mid-thigh. Her bare legs were exposed to the air, her face lighting up in a shade of red that would make the Fire Nation's colors jealous. Zuko turned to look at her, an innocent, questioning expression on his face until his eyes fell on her form. He recoiled, chest tightening as he blinked, startled, a sudden blush invading the pale skin of his fine features.

"W-what are you doing?" he stammered, eyes wide as he tried to regain his composure, swallowing. He had been expecting his things to be strewn around the room as the girl's way of taking revenge on him, everything broken and torn, not... well, this. His dresser wasn't even a mess; she had folded up the clothes she'd been uninterested in wearing and returned them to their proper places. He thanked the gods above that she was decently covered. Zuko couldn't help but feel a long-unused part of his brain clicking, taking note of every new, suddenly very interesting detail about her; like the way the dim firelight in the room seemed to glow against her exposed skin, or the way her-no, _his_-shirt draped around her features. His muscles tensed as his gaze flicked away, caught off guard by the obscene and unexpected thoughts. He mentally shoved them away, bringing his attention back to her, making dead sure he focused on her face, not the slender pair of legs sticking out from under the shirt; or elsewhere, for that matter.

"What are you doing?" he repeated, voice stronger, when Asharion didn't immediately reply.

"...getting dressed," she replied sheepishly after a moment's hesitation, her nimble fingers quickly finishing the button she'd been working on when he had stepped in.

"I can see that," Zuko started, eyes darkening, jaw clenching as the blush on his face deepened. He closed his eyes, steeling himself and taking a deep breath. Stay calm, don't freak out. Just stay calm.

"What I meant was," he continued, turning his attention back to her in a steely glare. "...what do you _think_ you're doing? I didn't see anything wrong with your previous clothes," he added lamely, still trying to get ahold of the situation.

Asharion blinked, grinning slightly, nervously, fidgeting awkwardly under his penetrating eyes. "I... thought I was getting dressed? Nothing was wrong with them, but... uh…" She blinked, glancing at the dresser and then back to Zuko, trying to think of something to say. "If everything is about you, then I figured dressing like you would make you like me better," she blurted out. The words had sounded better in her head, and perhaps if Iroh were here to laugh at the joke it would have made more sense. Zuko rewarded her a highly unamused look, but otherwise didn't reply. A stony silence followed, before the prince had the same feeling as he had up on the deck before-she was staring at his scar, just like everyone else always did. They couldn't get past it to him; they saw only the degrading red mark that marred not only his skin, but his pride as well.

"What?" he asked, voice gruff. He was somewhat confused when Asharion's eyes blinked, her blush deepening, her shoulders jumping like he'd startled her, or caught her doing something she shouldn't have been doing. Well, he had, hadn't he? His relentless eyes further forced his question, narrowing at her and expecting a reply.

"N-nothing, just... you have... h-have ... pretty eyes. They're b...beautiful," she finished in a mumble, crossing her arms over her chest and letting out a heavy breath, turning her head away from him. She bit her lower lip, feeling stupid for the stammered words. Zuko, for his part, twitched. That was the second time she'd described something about him as _'pretty.' _What a horrible word to use on a man.

"Yours look like toilet water," he returned, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned against the wall. The quiet, tense atmosphere in the room had been replaced with something softer that was somehow more electric. It felt good to return her compliment with an insult. It felt even better when he watched her flinch, an indignant expression coming over her features as she turned to glare at him, her 'toilet water' eyes glimmering orbs under dark lashes and furrowed brows.

"And you only look so young because you're _neutered," _she retorted sharply, a toothy smile materializing on her lips. Zuko's nostrils flared, his recently cooled temper rising once again.

"And you have small breasts, what a surprise."

"Loud-mouthed brat."

"Skinny whench."

"Balding old man!"

"Two-eyed witch!" he snapped back, anger rising in his face.

"A sharksnake wouldn't eat you, you're so pathetic."

"Pathetic? Who's the one in stolen clothes?"

"Who's the one who normally wears them?"

"How is that an insult?" Zuko asked.

"Because it refers to you," the woman retorted, folding her arms across her chest. Zuko's scowl deepened, teeth barring at her as his irate mood began to steadily rise. He should leave, and remove himself from the woman's infuriating and annoying presence. Somehow that seemed like a cowards choice; and this thought did not sit well with him at all. No, he'd be damned if he let her have the last word in this little fight of theirs.

* * *

**-~•*•*•~-**

_End of Chapter Three_


	6. Zuko's Pants

Here's where a favorite author mine, Elation, comes in. She/he inspired part of the scene in this chapter~ ;D

* * *

******-~•*•*•~-**

**Chapter Six**

**Zuko's Pants**

Iroh let loose a yawn, hand in front of his mouth and head tipped back. He walked in his own easy-going, unrushed gait step-by-step up the narrow stairs, pondering his nephew's rage. That was the first time he had seen Zuko lose his temper with such ferocity on someone aboard his own ship in a while. The most recent of these events was with General Zhao, and the two had challenged each other to an Agni Kai. Zuko had won, and that had put an end to dispute. Iroh shook his head slowly at his nephew's actions; he tried to solve all of his problems with violence; after all, it was the only way he knew how, despite his uncle's greatest efforts to bring him to a lighter, better path in life. He reached the top of the last flight of stairs, pausing with a hand on the railing to look down the hallways. One stretched out in front of him, and the other off to his left.

Iroh blinked, noting the chair in the hallway; that had not been there before. He walked towards the piece of furniture, before lifting his head to look at the door. Shouting and scuffling sounds emanated from inside Zuko's room. Curious more than alarmed, Iroh tested the latch on the door; finding it unlocked, he pushed it open a crack, and peered inside.

Iroh had seen many things in his life. He had seen some very bizarre events and heard even stranger things. But for the second time within an hour in the same day, his nephew once again gave the old man a mini heart-attack of shock. Zuko was in the process of trying to pull what looked to be a pair of his pants away from a half-dressed Asharion, who refused to let go of them. The two were on the ground shouting at each other and looked like a couple of kids roughhousing in the courtyard after school; Zuko had her pinned to the ground with one hand on her shoulder, leaning over her and trying to pull the pants from her grip. She was kicking and adding her own shouting to his demands and curses; the two appeared to be having some sort of insult contest. The girl shifted, pressing a hand to his face and shoving, to which Zuko snarled, leaning his head back and squinting his good eye as he pressed down harder on her shoulder.

"I said, let _go_!" he snarled viciously, small sparks of flame flicking out into the air as he spoke. He gave her another shove, shifting his legs to stop her from kicking at him with a hard, painful press of his knee.

"Bite me!" she snapped back, recoiling from the pain and trying to jerk herself out from under his hold. Asharion drew in a sudden breath and unleashed it upon his face, a strong gust of wind snapping back his lone ponytail and pushing the man off of her. He recovered quickly, grabbing her ankle and yanking her leg out from under her as she had begun to rise from the floor to stand. She landed back down on the ground, turning and leaping over to tackle him, locking an arm around his neck and twisting her body to the side. Zuko fell back, landing on the floor with a heavy thud. The scuffling continued, each of the two fighting for dominance over the other. Zuko's superior strength and skills finally won out; he had her pinned to the ground again underneath him, one hand wrapped like an iron vice around both her wrists, holding them to the ground above her head.

Asharion's chest heaved; she was too tired to blow any more air at him, sweat dripping down her flushed face, and realized that she had lost. Zuko was just as tired, mouth ajar as he breathed hard, his forehead glistening. Simultaneously, they both became aware of a pair of feet standing in the doorway. Iroh was the owner of this pair; he looked like he was trying desperately not to burst into a laughing fit. He could no longer stop himself and cracked up when the looks on Zuko's and Asharion's faces matched exactly: pure, horrified shock and embarrassment. Zuko's expression, however, quickly became livid as a furious blush raged across his cheeks and he stood as quickly as he could, taking several long steps away from Asharion and picking up the abandoned pair of pants that lay forgotten on the floor.

"Uncle, I can explain-" Zuko began, pointing an accusing finger at Asharion, who was staggering to her feet, brushing herself off.

"He started it!" she snapped, voice raspy as her chest stuttered with deep, labored breaths. After weeks of inactivity, the roughhousing was immediately taking a toll on her body. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, far too tired to waterbend it away as she usually would. Her face, however, reflected none of her exhaustion; it bore a mix of anger, frustration, and embarrassment-after all, she still wasn't wearing any pants.

Iroh just shook his head and slowly backed out of the room, the remnants of his laughter echoing slightly. Zuko put a hand to his temple; with the other, he opened a drawer and dropped his pants into it, not bothering to fold them. What an irritating day this was becoming. As he pushed the drawer shut a little too hard, he spoke. "I'm going to leave," he said quietly in a forced, thick voice, determined not to let his anger break him again, "and when I get back, you _better_ be back in _your_ clothes." He turned and fixed her with such a powerful, angry glare that Asharion took a step back from him. "_Do I make myself clear_." He didn't threaten anything specific, but it was clear enough that if she didn't comply, there would be severe consequences.

The tired girl didn't know what there was to do but nod and watch as Zuko turned and took several jagged, almost robotic strides out of the room, slamming the heavy metal door shut behind him.

Asharion wondered why she wasn't fearing for her life by now. Much more of this and Zuko would probably blow up the entire ship, the rest of them with it. What on Earth had she been thinking when she thought it would be amusing to provoke him? What, had she been expecting he'd laugh it off? After several moments of standing and staring dumbly into space, thoughts swirling in her mind, she suddenly realized that she didn't have much time. With a sigh she quickly stooped down to pick up her pants, pulling the red material on over her bare, shivering legs, and pulled the drawstring to a comfortable tension before knotting it twice. With a wistful look at Zuko's dresser, Asharion began to unbutton the borrowed shirt. The smooth, slightly heavy material was so soft, surprisingly comfortable against her skin. She shrugged it off, folded it, and placed it back in its spot in the drawer. It didn't take much to encourage her to slip quickly back into her own shirt, tucking the red fabric into the pants. This done, her shaking hands retrieved the sash, tying it snugly around her waist.

Zuko gave one short, curt knock on the door before shoving it open, lingering in the hall for a moment before it was evident that he wouldn't be greeted by screams of "I'm not done yet!" or "Pervert!". He stepped inside just as Asharion tugged on her vest, already walking towards the door with skittish, jumpy steps. Without a word he grabbed her harshly by the sleeve of her shirt, pulling her out of the room with him, leaving her boots behind in the room. His steps echoed dully throughout the ship's metal corridors as the two walked at a brisk, swift pace to the end of the hall. Zuko turned, giving her a rough shove towards the stairs, waiting until she was walking down before following directly behind her. The girl skittered down the steps in deathly silence, not daring to look back at the frightening man behind her. His presence was menacing, his unquelled fury still permeating the air around him and rolling across her slender form from his livid, predatory body. Zuko was close enough that Asharion could feel his body's steaming heat, and at one point could have sworn his scalding breath whispered the faintest touch across the back of her head and singed her hair.

He took her down a level lower than she had been held previously, and she didn't dare question why. They came to a halt at a door at the end of the stairs, the lighting nearly pitch black in the small, cramped quarters. Zuko reached an arm past her, turning the latch on the door and giving it a shove. A heavy hand placed between her shoulder blades propelled the girl into another hall, as dank and dimly lit as the rest. A red light glowed overhead, casting an eerie, poignant cast to the metal walls surrounding them. Zuko steered her down a series of turns and corridors, until stopping abruptly at a door with a stiff halt. He turned, one arm opening the door. He looked to her as he spoke then, a dangerous, feral glint in his eyes, daring her to defy him.

"Wait here," he said darkly, unspoken threats lingering in his livid amber eyes, teeming with resolve to make the girl's life as miserable as possible. With a final second of holding her gaze, waiting until Asharion gave a small, timid nod, he spun, stepping into the room and holding out a hand. A flame sprang to life in its palm, lighting up the room. Asharion waited, swallowing, wondering what insane part of herself had gotten herself into this awful situation. She had been wrong in provoking this man's dark side; so very, _very_ wrong.

Zuko returned moments later, something heavy in his hands that was making rattling, metallic clinking noises. Asharion recoiled as he stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind him with a loud bang, the noise ringing in her ears. Zuko shifted the items he held to one arm, placing the other hand on her shoulder and spinning her around. Asharion obliged, biting back tears as she offered her hands for him to shackle. He did so, tightening them snugly to her wrists and locking them in place, before stooping down to attach similar restraints to her ankles, allowing her just enough movement to be able to walk up the steps; if she ever went up the steps again, that was. Asharion felt a gnawing sense of trepidation growing inside of her, butterflies coming to life in her stomach at the thought of staying down here. It seemed so final, like she would be locked in a room and left to rot away into nothing, never to see the light of day again.

She wouldn't put it past him.

Zuko tugged on the sturdy chains connected between her ankles, jerking one of her feet with the action. Her wrists were connected together by a solid metal piece; she had no chance of pulling her wrists apart even the tiniest bit. Zuko's hand was placed stiffly on her shoulder, once again guiding her down the halls. Asharion was forced to take a series of rapid, fleeting steps to keep up with her captor's long strides, though he had slowed down considerably. He rounded a corner, marching her down the hall before coming to a stop at another unfamiliar door. He turned the large, several-pronged circular knob with a powerful tug of his arm. It spun around with a clacking noise before coming to a stop,and Zuko shoved the door open with a well-placed kick.

Asharion was forced into the pitch-dark room with a firm shove from her company's hand, the door swinging heavily shut behind her with a loud slam. The rattling, squeaking noise returned, followed by heavy footsteps leaving the way they'd come, fading off into silence. The girl shifted, her face pressed against the cold metal floor, rolling over onto her back with some squirming before sitting up. She waited in the endless expanse of darkness that surrounded her, willing her eyes adjust to even the smallest fragment of light. It was simultaneously terrifying and comforting not to know her surroundings; maybe it was better she didn't. Some time passed before the silence was replaced with soft sobs that no one but Asharion could hear.

* * *

**-~•*•*•~-**

_End of Chapter Six_

_Poor Zuko's pants; they actually felt loved, for a brief amount of time._


	7. Roko

Introducing some new characters, and a bit of a change of scenery. Here you have it;

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******-~•*•*•~-  
****Chapter Seven**

**Roko**

"Awww, c'mon Jacklehop! Have a heart," came a whining, pestering voice from behind Maun.

"Idiot, I already said no," replied the taller boy, holding his leg of half-eaten mooserat up out of the reach of the young lad. The boy was grinning up at him, a tooth missing from his cheery, boyish smile and his tousled black hair bouncing as he jumped for the drumstick. Giving up on this tactic, Turtlebiscuit gave a sudden downward jerk of his arms, shifting his feet to plant firmly on the ground. No sooner than the action had been made, a pillar of earth rose up under the boy's feet, propelling him into the air to grab at the leg. Maun laughed, jerking his arm out of the way and tearing off another bite of the freshly cooked meat with his teeth. His hair was matted in spots and had several braids and beads adorning it, his body dressed in Earth Kingdom clothing: a simple pale green tunic with an open-sided, long, cream colored, vest-like garment over it with thin dark green lining. He also wore a green and cream-lined sash, either ends of it embroidered with the symbol for earth. The ensemble was finished with baggy green shorts that tapered in at his knees, his ankles adorned with earthbended cuffs. They were smooth and looked to have been engraved with repeating symbols, but the designs, like the seamless cuffs themselves, had been bended into existence. A matching, wider set surrounded each of his forearms.

"You owe me one from yesterday though, remember?" Turtlebiscuit further nagged, making another vain attempt to grab for the leg of meat.

"Paid and done with." Maun replied easily, stealing another bite of his dinner, grinning at the younger boy. Turtle was maybe eleven years old, already having three raiding trips to his name and quite the aspiring genius with blast-jelly. He was also known for his tenacity in food-regarding situations.

A shadow stepped out of the treeline, the dwindling fire's light outlining a woman's curvy figure as she made her way towards them, firewood held effortlessly in her strong, feminine arms.

"Hey Maun, Turtle-twit giving you a hard time again?" she voiced, her voice ringing through the air like soft music, motherly and kind, with just a touch of her rebellious nature mixed into it. Turtlebiscuit stuck his tongue out at her in reply, putting his thumbs to his ears and waggling his fingers at her.

"Nyeeeeeh! Your jus' jealous cuz' Maun's gonna give me some of his kill!"

Maun just shook his head, laughing. Turtlebiscuit continued; "The guys did really well on their hunting trip; Okai says I can come with on the next one! Lovebird is going to teach me how to skin a mooserat!"

"That so?" the female figure replied, setting the wood down by the fire and placing a couple pieces into its hot, crackling depths and using a short branch from a tree limb to prod and shift the burning embers around, provoking the flames and making them rise. "Sounds like you have quite the adventure set up for yourself. Hey, you seen Roko around anywhere?" The woman lifted her head as she voiced this, looking around at what her eyes could see of the camp. "I have something to ask her about tomorrow's big shindig."

"Nah, I haven't. Sorry, Nose." Maun stated, sparing her a glance..

Nose shook her head slowly, sighing. Well, as long as she got ahold of her crazy comrade before they got ready for tomorrow's prison break; they were going to be dealing a heavy blow to the Fire Nation soldiers that occupied this territory and spat on the pride of the Earth Kingdom citizens that lived in it. That was only a miniscule reward, however, compared to what their mission would accomplish if they succeeded; fathers, mothers, _children_ would be allowed the freedom to go back to their homes, rejoin their families or join the Dousing Landslide, the name of the rag-tag rebel team that had formed once the Fire Nation's troops had invaded their lands. Nose had never been fond of the name, but the group had been formed and created long before she had joined it.

Maun and Turtlebiscuit had gone back to their usual quarreling, and Nose smiled, straightening and wiping her hands together to rid them of smears of soot and bark. She let out a yawn, stretching her arms up to the sky and arching her back.

"I don't know about you two, but I think I'm gonna hit the sack. You guys can roughhouse all night if you want; just remember, we have a long day tomorrow." She headed away, her light step almost soundless.

Maun chuckled, tearing off a generous chunk of meat and handing it over to Turtlebiscuit, who accepted it with a squeal of joy. "I don't think we'll be up much longer, either," he said, more for himself than anyone else's ears.

Turtlebiscuit had plopped down on the ground with criss-crossed legs, busy devouring the meat Maun had given him, mumbling with his mouth full of how good it tasted and repeatedly thanking Maun. A comfortable, easy semi-silence followed, filled with the sounds of cricketmoles chirping in the nearby forest and the soft crackle of the fire as it spat and popped, engulfing the logs of wood in its all-consuming heat. A few distant, muffled snores met the two's ears from different directions. In the dark it was nearly impossible to see anything but blurred shapes and odd blobs of dark colors, but come daybreak one's eyes would pick out stone and scarce canvas tents and small buildings. Various clusters of short stone pillars and larger, higher chunks of risen earth served as chairs and tables.

This was just the temporary camp, set up as a supply line for the home-base that was deeper into the forest, hidden underground. They had moved to this location because Fire Nation troops were nearby in heavier concentration; new soldiers had come as reinforcements to the men already stationed. This meant several things; new, naive troops who most likely wouldn't know what they were getting themselves into, fresh supplies to be looted away and redirected back to the Earth Kingdom villages in desperate need of them and to the rebel's own dwindling stores. They were down to eight barrels of blast jelly, three of which were going to be used, if all went according to plan, tomorrow evening. At last, Turtlebiscuit and Maun said their goodnights and headed back to their makeshift homes. They'd need their rest for tomorrow's activities.

**-~•*•*•~-**

In the pitch black void she'd been cast into, Asharion had no idea how much time had passed since Zuko had locked her in there. Judging from her parched throat and her body quivering from hunger, it must have been at least day or two. She lifted her head as first muted footsteps, then a heavy rattling noise broke the dreary silence. After being starved of any source of light, the dim light sources in the corridor seemed like bright enough to burn one's eyes from their sockets. Asharion visibly recoiled, struggling to sit up from her pathetic, limp curl on the ground in the middle of the room. Two uniformed guards stepped in, looking like clones of each other with their matching black and red armor. Each of them stooped down next to her, grabbing her roughly by the arms and pulling her to her feet.

Asharion let out a muffled cough, the noise hanging in her throat. Her body was cold and numb, the soldier's hands feeling as hot as searing flames as they dragged her out of the cell and into the hall. The prisoner looked up as she was dragged out, noting the three other guards lining the wall of the corridor, and the grotesquely familiar face of the ship's captain; Zuko stood, his face pulled into a silent mark of dislike for the woman, arms folded tightly across his broad torso. His gaze was demeaning and diminishing, so final in his decision about what her life was worth to him. He wanted her gone, locked away and never to be seen by his or the world's eyes again.

"Great... r-room service," she coughed out, a weak smirk tugging on the corners of her chapped lips. Zuko gave a soft scoff, turning and walking down the hall with brisk, impatient steps. He was ready to have this done and over with. This woman had delayed and distracted them enough from his search for the Avatar, and his hatred for her had only grown over the day and a half she'd spent locked away, out of his sight. The two guards tensed, their muscles preparing for the short trip ahead, before stepping in unison and dragging her by the arms down the hall, her feet just barely touching the ground. Asharion clenched her jaw, a tight coil of pain and an aching soreness seeping its way into her disturbed body at the motion, her muscles sore from so much inactivity, struggling to keep her stomach from disclosing its acids up her throat. Time seemed to pass in achingly slow moments, every sound and jerk of her body from the guards' gruff hold on her agonizing and painful. Her ears were ringing by the time they brought her to an opening of blinding light, and for the briefest of moments her dazed mind thought that she was dying; she could see the light. Confusion of why her limbs were so heavy followed, before the two men following Zuko stepped with her into and through the doorway, like entering a portal to another world.

Scents and smells assaulted her nose, fresh plant life and the stingingly familiar salty taste of the ocean. She tried squinting into the light, looking around at a bustling town full of people dressed in an almost obscene amount of varying shades of green. More Fire Nation troops were seen in the busy city life, walking with an air of command around and through the thinly dispersed crowds. The two guards at either side of Asharion walked her down a metal ramp. Zuko led the way, his footsteps the first ones to make dull hollow thuds against the wooden dock as he stepped off of his ship. There was a group of men waiting on land, a tall, brusque and formidable-looking figure standing in front of them all. He had a shaped goatee with the tip sliced off, and stubble on his cheeks. A rippling, nasty-looking scar marred his face, starting from above his left brow, over his eye, and down to nearly his angular jawline. It looked like some wild beast had attacked him, and with its sharp claws carved its mark into his features. The eyelid the scar passed over was drooped and misshapen-looking, and the eyeball itself was a pale amber color that signified blindness.

The other watched Zuko approach with his soldiers, hands clasped firmly behind his back and posture ramrod straight. His gaze was as hard and fierce as a lionsnake's, eyes flicking for the briefest moment to lock onto the prisoner the guards were leading across the dock to them.

"Prince Zuko," the man began, his gravely, deep-baritone voice sounding like booming thunder through the air. "I wasn't expecting to see you, who's this prisoner you have?"

"A waterbender." Zuko replied, not sure if he should disclose exactly what elements she could bend; he knew he should, for the sake of the men putting her in proper security, and grudgingly, he continued; "She is also able to bend wind and fire. She is not the Avatar." He added this last sentence with a firm, sharp note to his voice, stepping off to the side and watching as his guards brought the woman to stand limply beside him a few feet away, for the warden to inspect.

"You're kidding me, right?" The man stated, shaking his head in disbelief, though there was a tone in his voice suggesting he believe Zuko without question. "Just what this island needs; another freak wandering around. We've been having our hands full with a little twit who's both a fire and earth bender. Don't worry about this one; we have the perfect cell to keep her locked up in." This was followed by a cruel, savage curling of the man's lips, his eyes-well, one of them, anyway-washing almost hungrily over the girl's form, hungry for her suffering. Asharion shrank back slightly under his gaze, trembling from both weakness and despair as Zuko's men let go of her and handed her over to the other man's employees. The new hold was, if anything, rougher; the hard, heavy hands jerked her into motion with a brutal yank, down the dock and towards the land. Their actions seemed to have been given by some unspoken communication; their leader had not voiced anything before they moved to take her away, and the man was staying put to have a talk with Zuko.

They dragged her over the compact ground to a reinforced metal carriage, the force that pulled it being a heavy-set rhino with threatening horns and a grumpy-looking face. The dragging stopped for a single, merciful moment as one of the men unlocked the heavy, metal-barred door of the back compartment; then one of the men grasped her upper arms, the other her feet, and they literally threw her into the tiny mobile cell. The imprisoned young woman crashed none-too-gently against a solid wall, falling on her face with a small pained cry. The door slammed shut with a loud bang; keys rattling and jangling shortly afterwards in the padlock, barring her from any hope of escape.

Asharion forced herself to roll over and sit up, trying in vain to keep a pained groan from escaping her lips in the process. She hurt from head to toe, the spots where her body had directly slammed against the thick metal enclosure lighting up in a pain strong enough to make her head swim. The heavy chains clinked with her movements as she scooted into the corner of the little room to lean against the wall to keep herself from toppling over. She let her eyes fall shut, letting out a long, shaky breath. She was so vulnerable, totally at the mercy of these terrible men. If only she hadn't been so _stupid_! Zuko was obviously not the kind of person people mess with if they want to live; and yet, she had driven him up a wall to the point where he handed her over to people who would treat her far worse than the he had.

The carriage gave a sudden lurching movement forward, the wheels bouncing and shaking with every bump or rock they rolled over, jerking wildly with the rhino's every lumbering step. Asharion let out a gasp, the movement lifting her an inch above the ground in one heart-stopping moment before she crashed on the floor once more, the side of her face and shoulder breaking her fall. Her thoughts immediately flashed back to the pony-tailed man, a tight coil of resentment knotting up and beginning to grow in her chest. She clenched her teeth, cursing herself for those foolhardy thought's about their being any scrap of good left in that man's burning coal he called a heart.

And yet, for reasons she couldn't explain, Asharion suddenly felt a sob burst through her lips, heart feeling like it was being wrenched out of her chest, the memory of that blasted boy's kind, compassionate uncle. How could blood-relatives be such polar opposites? This turned her sudden confused, enraged fury inside of her into a mushy pile of uncertainty, questions, and... sympathy. Pity for the boy who could only see shadows where there was light; what terrible thing had happened to him in his past to bring him to such vile contempt and oiling anger? Her swimming thoughts were interrupted as the carriage went onto a dirt road, jarring the woman captive inside of the metal box and bouncing her helpless body across the smooth metal surface.

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_End of Chapter Seven_


	8. Making Plans

Alright, this is the final on-hand chapter I have for you guys. Hopefully from here on out, now that i am armed with better knowledge, the chapters will start to get better. Thanks to everyone who didn't get bored-away from this story, and thanks even more to those who intend on continuing it. Consider this text-dump of eight chapters in the last two or three days as Rikki and I making up for the three-week Haitus i've mentioned. It should be sometime this coming week, I hope. I'll try to get onto a computer in-between working my butt off, hanging with the horses, and getting some well-deserved sleep ;D Rikki can't have a fanfiction account, so i'm afraid the only person who's able to update chapters is leaving you. I will most likely have access to a computer, but I don't want to infringe on Jim and Linda's computer. It just feels... weird, to be using electronics when your staying at someone else's house. In any sense, don't feel like these eight chapters are all you're going to get! Rikki and i are already well on the way to the next bunch of them.

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******-~•*•*•~-  
Chapter Eight**

******Making plans**

Maun was in town, watching the new troops wander around the village, occasionally picking out some unfortunate soul to rough them up a bit. He had been near the dock when the black trail of smoke and metal hull of a ship had brought itself up into harbor. This was interesting; the vessel was smaller than most Fire Nation ships, and looked to be an unusually old model. There was the odd looks for the thing, but then there was the curious question of its visit; the Dousing Landslide had a fairly good line of intercepting information and gathering intelligence on the Fire Nation bullies stationed here, and they had known weeks in advance for the new troops coming in; so why hadn't they heard any word on this one?

Maun pursed his lips, focusing himself with actions unrelated to stalking firebenders, a small loaf of half-eaten bread in his hand that he took a bite out of. The earthbender watched out of the corner of his eye as- he nearly dropped the food he was holding, shock washing over his brain and setting off alarms in his mind. _That was the banished prince Zuko's ship! _ Well wouldn't Nose and the others love to hear this bit of information. Being careful not to be too obvious of his motives, Maun watched the scene from afar, leaning up against a pale stone building and taking generous bites out of his bread.

A shackled prisoner wearing classic Fire Nation clothes was being led down a metal ramp, Prince Zuko leading the way onto the dock. That explained why the guards were so concentrated today, and why the prison warden-Turtlebiscuit called him Snotscar-had blessed them all with his malevolent presence. The captive person looked weak and frail compared to the group of taller, muscled men surrounding him. That was a boy, right? Maun squinted, taking another chomp out his bakery product. It was impossible to tell whether the prisoner was a man or woman. Deciding to label the person as the former for his own mind's sanity of needing something to refer to him as, Maun watched as Snotscar's men came and took the lad away from the two guards by Zuko's side, dragging the unfortunate soul away and tossing him carelessly into the waiting metal carriage. Maun winced, wondering what the boy could have done to merit him entry into Snotscar's merciless care. And apparently a Fire Nation boy, no less. Well, today was the boy's lucky day; the prison break was several short hours away. The sun had yet to break over the horizon, but the air still seemed tense with the knowledge of what was to come. Maun watched the rhino make its surprisingly fast, stomping gait across the already compacted ground of the land, soon passing right in front of Maun and continuing down the street.

**-~•*•*•~-**

By dawn, many of the Dousing Landslide's members were already awake. The camp bustled with flurries of activity; the scheduled prison raid would be no walk in the park, and it required much preparation. Members distributed and traded blast jelly; the few who weren't benders readied their various weapons. Besides them, the society was composed mostly of earthbenders, two waterbenders, and one unusual case for a firebender.

"Yo, yo! Up and at'em, squirt."

Turtlebiscuit squirmed in his tent, throwing a skinny arm over his face to block out any light and hiding in his sleeping bag from whoever was banging on the wall of his earth tent. "But 'ts so eeeearly," he complained. The person outside bended away the heavy slab of earth behind which hid the younger boy, sliding it neatly back into the ground. "Come on. You can't fall asleep during the raid, stupid. And there's a ton of stuff to do before we go." The voice's owner kicked him affectionately; he yelped and squirmed in his sleeping-bag cocoon. "Okay, okay! I'm going!" The sleepy kid stuck his head out, rubbing his slightly puffy eyes. "Aww, man, Roko, it's barely even morning!" The sky was a cool, clear, slightly dark blue; the sun still hid behind the horizon.

"Barely is close enough."

"Meanie!"

"Just hurry up, silly." The girl headed away from her friend's tent, laughing lightly to herself.

She was one of the younger members, only fourteen years of age. However, she was also one of their most talented benders; still learning, but her skills were nothing to laugh at. Not very tall, she was stocky-built with a slightly boyish figure; yet, it was still clear that she was a girl, with fluffy chin-length brown hair, a green ribbon tied about her head, and a lightly tanned complexion. She had a thin face and a prominent nose, but her most distinguishing feature was, by far, her eyes. Her right one was green, a deliciously bright foresty color. Her left, however, was amber-gold; in fact, it was the same hue that was so common to the Fire Nation's inhabitants.

The girl's clothing wasn't complicated; a form-fitting green tanktop that showed part of her midriff under a reddish vest with a zig-zagged row of clasps across its front. The vest reached to about the bottom of her ribcage, with her tanktop almost reaching her navel. She wore a heavy brown leather belt that had a tapered flap of black-and-green cloth sticking out under each side over a pair of loose, baggy tan shorts, and a single brown belt-like band about her right ankle. She had another of these around her right bicep. On her left arm was a slim green glove, reaching from above her elbow to her hand, where the ends of the glove were cut off to expose the tips of her fingers. She had a similar glove on her other arm, but it only reached below her elbow. Covering each wrist was a decorative black-and-red band, with an upside-down triangle shape cut out of the top of each. The girl wore no shoes, like most earthbenders.

Roko's pace was brisk as she walked down the pathway between rows of tents, earth-made and otherwise, occasionally slapping hands with passersby.

"Roko! Hey, Roko, wait up!"

She turned to see a half-awake Turtlebiscuit running to catch up to her. "Hey, hey wait!"

Roko stopped, standing with hands on her hips as she waited for her younger friend. The boy finally arrived, panting from his brief run. "I forgot to tell ya! Nose wants a word with you."

The girl blinked. "Does she? Mm. I think I know what it's about. Thanks for telling me, squirt."

"Heeey, I have a name!"

"I know. But you're a squirt."

"Am not! I'm almost twelve!"

"That qualifies as squirt material."

"Rooookooooooooo!"

"Go find Sensa, he wanted to talk to you about the bombs we're using today."

"Bombs...? I'm on it!" Off ran a jubilant Turtlebiscuit in the opposite direction, all sleepiness forgotten.

Roko laughed lightly, shaking her head, before continuing on her path, this time keeping her eyes open for a certain facial body part. Namely, Nose. Unfortunately for her, it was easier said than done to spot any specific someone; fellow rebels ran this way and that, often joined by flying hunks of rock. Someone's dog barked, and there was a big commotion when it got into one of the ration barrels. "Camp's calm today," observed Roko, only half-sarcastic as she approached a big oak tree with many far-reaching branches. Going into a slight crouch, the girl boosted herself into its strong, heavy branches with a platform of earth, which fell back into the ground after she leaped from its surface, as though it had never been. Finding her favorite fork in the branches and settling into a comfortable position, she scanned the area briefly with her sharp mismatched eyes. No sign of Nose yet; no matter.

Roko could often be found in this spot, usually eating. True to this common knowledge, she pulled some dried strips of meat from her pocket and began chewing on one of them, leaning with a relaxed sigh against the supportive branches as she devoured her snack. A bird flitted down onto an overhanging tree-limb above, and gave an inquisitive chirp. Roko looked up, a piece of meat sticking out of her mouth. It was a little finch, brown, like many that lived around these parts. Watching her company, Roko swallowed the last of her strip. "Mine. Go eat worms or something." The crestfallen finch gave an indignant tweet, cocking its head at the girl. She stuck out her tongue.

A hand fell on Roko's shoulder, the culprit being a smug-looking Maun, crouched on a stone pillar just behind her shoulder.

"Yo, Comet. I was out scouting in town, and it looks like our little fireflies have a new soul to add to their collection. Lucky for him the prison break is happening today."

"Another one? Man, they've been busy. What else did you see?" Roko turned in her spot, straddling her branch, to see her comrade.

"Well, you'll never guess who actually brought in the prisoner."

"Why, it wasn't just more of the usual Fire Nation goons?"

"Not just _any_ Fire Nation goon. _Prince Zuko_."

"Say _what_?" Roko nearly fell out of the tree, startling the bird that had been sitting nearby and sending it into a flurry of feathers and indignant squawking.

"You heard me, and geez. Rumors about that guy couldn't be more true; he had this nasty grumpy look on his face like someone stole his favorite pair of pants or something." (XDD) There was a scrabbling noise from below, and Maun gave a cock-eyed grin, leaning over enough to peer down his stone pillar at a certain tousle-haired boy by the name of Turtlebiscuit.

"Maaaaaaun! Maun, Maun what did you see in town? Did you buy me anything?" he asked, eyes full of so much hope it was almost painful. Maun tilted his head back as if in thought, bringing a hand up to stroke his freshly-shaved face. "Hmmm... let's see-ah! Yeah, I _did _get you something, Turt," he proceeded to stick a finger in his ear, puledl out an imaginary clump of earwax, and pretended to flick it down at the boy. Turtlebiscuit laughed, stomping on the ground and raising his own column of rock to rise up to Maun and Roko's level.

"I heard someone say something about grumpy-face. What's Snotscar up to now?" Turtle asked, assuming they were talking about the usually very angsty prison warden.

"Hate to burst your bubble on your favorite topic, squirt, but we weren't talking about Snotscar," Roko said, offering Turtle a strip of jerky.

"He's not my favorite topic! Blast jelly and meat are tied for the top two; Snotscar having a bad day is second," the boy replied, accepting the jerky and tearing into it. The meat proved too tough for his teeth, and resulted in a pained, caught-off-guard expression from Turtlebiscuit, who instead changed over to happily chewing on an end of it. "Geez, this stuff is tough! How long you had it for, Comet?"

"I'd say it's a safe bet our little Comet here had it for at _least _three months. Her pocket is a magical seasoner, you know," Maun replied for her, grinning.

Roko smacked him indignantly. "I got it yesterday, idiot!"

"Oww!"

"You deserved it!"

"We're off topic; Turtle, what was your question again?" Maun said, breaking off his quarrel with Roko, gingerly touching the red mark on his face with a hand.

"Who'd you see who's grumpier than Snotscar?" the boy repeated, unable to sit still from suspense.

"None other than the banished prince himself," Roko said dramatically through a mouthful of jerky before Maun could get a word out. She crossed her arms, shifting down into a more comfortable position in between the two branches where she was situated.

"Banished who?" Turtled replied, a confused expression on his face.

"You might know him by the name Prince Zuko, biscuit. He's got this nasty-looking red burn mark over his left eye." Maun replied calmly, the image of the man's formidable features coming back into his mind.

"Oh, that scar-face guy. He's kinda like Snotscar then, right? They both have a scar over their left eye and are real grumps. They're gonna be scary old men someday," Turtle mused, scratching his head. Maun shrugged, giving a yawn and stretching. Scary old men indeed, if they lived that long.

"Hey... I just got an idea!" Roko said, sitting up from her branch, mischief dancing across her face.

"Which would be...?" Maun and Turtlebiscuit prompted her at the same time, turning curious expressions to her. It was moments like this, when they had the same facial expression or said a similar phrase, that reminded others of their blood-sibling status.

"You said Mr. Grump just got here, right? Well, he had to get to this island somehow- a ship, right? I bet that there's tons of stuff on there, just waiting to be looted! Do you know how long he's staying? Because we could so totally spring the stuff in his ship after the prison break. I bet we could even get Nose's permission to use a bit of blast jelly to blow a hole in the hull and sink it afterwards!" Roko's expression could only be described as maniacal; big grin, eyebrows akimbo, bright eyes glinting.

Maun raised both eyebrows; that thought had never once crossed his path. And the prince was banished... who would come to help him and his sorry rig? If anything it seemed like the perfect opportunity, and it would be a huge morale booster to others to know that even a prince-hey, even if he was banished, there was some weight to his lineage-of the Fire Nation couldn't stand up to them. Roko could be such a genius sometimes, it was almost scary.

"But what if he finds out about the prison-break and turns tail?" Turtle asked, frowning, looking to Roko to raise his hopes back up.

"The docks are on the other side of the peninsula, remember? The prison is pretty far away. Unless he's in the area-and really, why should he be? It's mostly just forest besides the building itself-it's unlikely he'll hear anything about it. And even so, how would he know that we'd be targeting him next?" Roko smiled smugly, confident of her plan.

"They could send a messenger bird?" Maun mused, though he thought the idea unlikely. Just another possible complication to toss out there for brainstorming.

"What's his rig look like, Maun? Is it really big?" Turtle prodded, excitement in his eyes; he'd heard others retelling stories of their own adventures on Fire Nation vessels. The answer Maun gave was far from satisfactory to the boys expectations.

"Small and kinda puny-looking compared to normal ships. It's an older model I think; pretty banged-up. Shouldn't be hard to get in, though. I haven't been up close or anything, but I don't think the prince has very many men under his command. Roko, whatcha thinkin' for people to come on the raid? This is gonna be a pretty special douse to the fireflies; your idea, you call the shots."

"Excellent!" Roko rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "I should probably run the whole idea by Nose first, though. She's the one who decides what happens to that jelly, anyway, and I'll need some to bust in. Have you seen her?"

"Yeah, she's hangin' out with Buckshot and Twigs. They're over at the supply building, going through all the stuff and making sure nothing is damaged."

"In that case, I'll see you guys around!" replied Roko, standing up on her branch.

"Bye-bye, Comet!" Turtle chirped, grinning as young boys do.

"See ya."

Without hesitation, the young woman leaped neatly out of the tree, landing hard on bent legs on the solid ground. Straightening, she took off running, preparing to engage in the bending maneuver which earned her the celestial nickname she was so proud of.

Still running, she stopped suddenly, bending her knees and pushing off hard from the ground, arms straight down at her sides, hands curled into fists. Without warning, hot red flames exploded into existence, propelling Roko into the air. Several of the rebels below looked up as she shot across the sky, high above, followed by her fiery tail.

The supply building wasn't far, but Roko was always eager for an opportunity to show off the flames she was so proud of. In addition to being an earthbender, she was also the Dousing Landslide's only firebender. This was one of the only moves she knew, true; however, that didn't stop her from using it whenever she could.

Soon enough, Roko touched down on the ground by the supply building, her flames wisping away. She took a deep breath, balancing herself, before walking briskly into the doorway.

Nose looked up as the fellow rebel member entered, grinning. Two other men were with her, one with a longbow resting next to him on the floor and a full quiver of arrows attached to a belt on his hip; this was Buckshot, with a mohawk and clad in water-tribe clothing. The other was Twigs; a non bender who wore, by choice, old hand-me-down rags in dull browns and tans. His only garment true to his Earth Kingdom heritage were a pair of cream, green-lined cuff on his ankles. Buckshot was running a long coil of rope through his deft fingers, eyes flawlessly searching for any signs of breakage. He spared Roko a quick glance and a cheery hello. Twigs looked up, grinned, and carefully set down the box of smoke-screen pellets he'd been rifling through, one of his proudest lootings from a Fire Nation platoon.

This done, the boy suddenly jumped at Roko with a loud _'whoot!'_

"Rokoooooo the Comeeeet!" he cheered, in an appropriately dramatic, high-pitched voice.

"Sup, Buckshot? Twiiiigs, bro! What's going on?" Laughing, Roko slapped hands with him, afterward performing several other complicated handshake maneuvers before turning to Nose and giving her a hug. "Hi, Smelly ^^"

"Hey, tiny flame, I was looking for you last night. Where on _earth_ where you?" She grinned at the slight pun, though, really, it was rather lame. "I know Maun said you were just going to be helping us get the blast jelly in place for the prison break, but Seeker and I want you in on the group that goes and springs people out, taking out guards and stuff. Think you can handle your first serious raid?" she added, a challenging, friendly smirk pulling at her lips before it became an all-out grin, her teeth glinting in the room's dim lighting, provided by a lone oil lamp.

Roko's mouth twisted into a smirk, eyes glittering with excitement. "You _bet_ I'm ready! S'about time you let me in on the action. And also, Maun told me about this prisoner they brought in this morning, and you'll never guess who it was that brought him in..." As she explained her plan to loot Zuko's ship, she practically jumped up and down with excitement, barely noticing as she bended a couple of pebbles from the ground; they swirled around her forearm, her fingers twisting and controlling them with intricate movements.

The trio listened with eager ears, grinning and even laughing at some parts of the plan; truly, Roko was a genius. By the time 'Comet'-as was Roko's nickname-had finished laying out her plan, Buckshot had finished running through the pile of ropes.

"All right, one problem with your plan though; Maun's gonna kill you if he can't be in on it," the waterbender pointed out, a cocky grin on his face. Maun was part of the plan, yes. Just... not in the way the man may have hoped to be. Dresses weren't really his thing, though the guy made a scarily convincing woman. Nose, Tass, or Roko normally would have filled in for this position, but the three women already had their excuses laid out: Roko was going in, of course. It was _her_ plan, and besides, she wanted to. Tass had a broken ankle, so she was out. Finally, Nose was helping Roko enter and navigate inside the boat. She'd been on a Fire Nation vessel numerous times before; as both a prisoner and a spy, as well as just general retaliation and assault. Roko needed someone who knew how to get around, and besides that, she just wanted to make Maun wear a dress and be all pretty. It was going to be perfect blackmailing material for later.

"I'll need some help besides just you, though, Nose; you know us firebenders hoard loot like magpies. I'll talk to some other members later," said Roko as their talk died down after they'd secured the details of the plan. They were going to carry it out that night, in case Zuko's ship was supposed to leave the next morning. They'd have time to get ready after the prison break that afternoon, and "Mauna's" distraction story about being a helplessly lost maiden would be more believable at a late hour.

"Sounds like a plan," Nose confirmed with a small nod of her head.

"Hey, Bucksho-IEE! ow! What the bloody firebender was that for?" Twigs demanded in an ever-rising voice after Buckshot had suddenly leaned over and punched him in the side of the face.

"You had a bug on your ear."

"And you felt the need to _punch _it? Idiot, that was my _face!_" Roko snickered, reaching over to give Twigs a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, saying:

"Personally, I would have tried to toast it with some fire, or smash it with a rock. Buckshot's just being concerned for your safety, is all, Twigs."

"Lucky for you, I can't bend," replied a flustered Twigs, rubbing the side of his face and closing the lid on the smoke pellets. Actually, this action gave him an idea. "Hey, Roko, how s'bout we use some of these tonight? Don't think we'll need them for the prison break, Maun never mentioned anything about them. But we could really give those fire-freaks a run for their... uh... how did the phrase go?"

"Run for their _money_, dork," Nose finished, laughing lightly and screwing the cap onto a small clay jar full of blasting jelly; she'd been making the closest thing the rebels could get to a bomb.

It was composed of half a jar of blasting jelly with a rotten egg in it, and a fuse stuck all the way to the bottom to make sure it didn't fall out. A hole in the bended-rock lid let the fuse protrude out, so you could light it and toss. Turtlebiscuit and Maun, no surprise, had been the ones to invent the things. They really saved on supplies.

"So... you guys got the plan down, right? Meet at the half-song tree right after Snotscar gets his precious baby cracked open and busted up, right?" Roko asked for confirmation after a brief silence.

"Crude way of putting it, but yeah, I'm all for it," the other woman in the group replied.

"Dibs on picking out the dress for Maun," Buckshot declared with an impish grin.

"I'll get some supplies ready while you guys are out breaking some rules," Twig began. "I'm not going on the big break-in, so I'll make myself useful here."

"All right, I'll go talk to the others," Roko said with enthusiasm, slamming a fist into the cupped palm of another hand, before repeating in reverse the complicated series of handshakes, gestures, and facial expressions with the two boys and taking her leave.

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_End of Chapter Eight_**  
**

_(And don't worry; i'm not gone yet. If your lucky, Rikki and i may have another chapter or two posted for you guys before I go out of town, ;D)_


	9. Nevermind

_Finally! _I'm so, so sorry, guys! I know this story is far past the due-date for a chapter update. Rikki and I haven't given up on this story, and in fact, we have many more chapters already written up after this one. We both went back and re-read our entire story, and i kept wincing at all the little mistakes i found. Ah, well, we shall fix them! I feel that we made Zuko almost a little too angry in the chapters, though... Hmm. The story seems far darker than i was intending it to be. Well, things will start turning around soon enough. Gotta trudge through all the murky waters to get to dry land, after all.

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**Chapter Eight**

**Nevermind**

"So how does one feed a kid like her?" one of the prison guards asked, flicking a thumb over his shoulder at the pile of dirty red cloth and bruised skin curled in the corner of her cramped new quarters. Asharion had received their finest treatment; rough handling and nasty insults, mean men laughing at her pathetic, weak state and just generally roughing her up. The low-lifes got a kick out of having such power and control over someone who could supposedly bend three elements. Now came the question of keeping her alive just enough to watch her suffer away in misery. Being a waterbender, they couldn't unshackle her wrists or ankles; those metal garments were there to stay. Being an airbender, it was risky to take off the crude mouth-covering one of the prison amorists had thrown together; it was too easy for her to bring up a sudden gust of wind.

However, that was the least of their worries; the girl would be too helpless and weak to conjure such a wind, and even if she did it would be little more than a fleeting breeze and have little effect on the guards. Zuko had also informed them of her sudden burst of firebending, but this was taken care of with the shackles and the mouth-covering. In the end, 'Snotscar's' men just got a kick out of mulling over possible events of the 'oh-so-powerful' bender getting the best of them. All in all, she was viewed as fresh meat in the prison to be humiliated and pushed-around, just like all the rest of the poor souls in the putrid place.

"I think she's a mutt. Her skin's pale but but it's also got that weird tan to it. Kinda like an Earthbender, maybe," one of the guards offered into the conversation, a thoughtful expression on his face. The three men were all dressed in matching uniforms; grey baggy shirts and pants and black over-armor with red trim. Finishing their ensembles were swords slung carelessly on their hips, the sheaths firmly tethered onto sharply polished, black leather belts secured firmly around their waists. They wore no helmets; they never saw a need to.

All in all, not bad looking men; most Fire Nation soldiers had some real fine features, but looks were such a small, insignificant part of people. They could deceive you with a glance and be altered so easily, and a wicked man with a black, shriveled, hardened heart could be the nicest-looking, smiliest, warmest-voiced soul you'd ever meet.

"She's not an Earthbender though, s' far as we know," another replied, his voice gravelly and rough.

"Kinda cute for a prisoner," commented the third, before continuing; "I place my bets on Water tribe. Most of 'm are tan, but I've seen a couple pale ones here and there."

"Maybe it's an airbender thing; I heard the avatar's pale-ish," the man that had started the topic-change said.

"You guys are pathetic," a soft voice murmured, muffled, from behind them. Asharion was laying on her side in the stall, having shifted from her curled-up position into a more comfortable one. Her face was smudged with dirt and filth from inside the unclean cell, which was a large, square metal box with a front made of vertical iron rods, one of many lining either side of the prison hallway. A temporary placement; Snotscar-whose actual birth name was Lee-had assured Prince Zuko that he would personally see to the woman's new housing arrangements. True to his word, the man was off ordering men around and just generally being in happy-land with his dominance and power over the small island town.

"What was that you said, freak?" a soldier asked, challenge in his voice as he turned just enough from his spot against the wall to spit at her. It hit its mark, Asharion flinching as it splattered on her face. Cackling from the other two men followed, and one of them took further interest in her foolish words. He pushed off from the pillar he'd been propped up against, taking the few short steps it took to bring him to her cell door.

"What was that you said again, mutt? I don't remember anyone saying you could speak," he sneered, a vile smirk on his cruel features. He straightened, laughing, when the girl didn't reply.

"Geez, I'm not sure what the warden is so worried about; this girl's pathetic. The banished prince must've been drinking cactus juice when he wasted the boss's ears on her bending skills. I've seen sorry ones before, but this is the first basket case here that had her spirit broken the first day."

Asharion suddenly jerked her head up at the man's words, eyes livid with contempt, fury rolling off her form. Despite her body's meek, helpless, damaged state, her spirit was far from broken. Unseen strength pulsed through her veins, her lips pulling back into a vicious snarl behind the crude metal plate covering her mouth. A low growl came up the back of her throat as she thrashed suddenly, her legs kicking forward and wrists straining in their cuffs to turn. The spittle on her cheek flew threw the bars of the cage and smacked the firebender square in the face. The other two prison guards stared at the girl with wide eyes and open mouths. The spit-faced one, however, turned red as a beet with rage.

"You're going to be sorry you did that, you stinking two-eyed little-!" he barked furiously, reaching for the keys tucked into his shirt, his other hand going for the padlocked door.

"Ri, no. Don't." The owner of the aged and wary voice spoke up, giving an instant break of calm to the would-be out-of-hand situation. He placed a hand on the incensed guard's shoulder, shaking his head calmly, before turning to look down at the girl, saying:

"You're new here. Word of advice: keep your mouth shut."

The ground jarred suddenly. All three of the guards jumped visibly at the loud noise, the ground reverberating beneath their feet. A panicked voice suddenly traveled down the hallway, male but high-pitched with fear. "The rebels again!" it shouted, "They blew a hole in the main wall!" His voice was followed by shouts and barked orders, red, flashing lights and an ear-pounding alarm springing to life.

One of the guards swore and took off after the man who had shouted the warning. The second followed immediately; the third, the older man, cast a mysterious, lingering glance at Asharion before following after his mates. Their footsteps echoed throughout the heavy metal of the building, and soon the prisoners in the hallway were alone in their cells.

Asharion sat up a little straighter, straining her ears to see if she could pick up any indication of just what was going on. However, the recent explosion wasn't the last disturbance of the day.

The captive woman jumped at an abrupt, jarring, thunk. It wasn't nearly as loud as the ground-shaking explosion; however, it was much, much closer, perhaps less than ten feet away, in the centre of the hallway in which lay her cell. The young woman stared at the spot in the metal floor from which had emanated the sound, blinking in wonder as a second, then a third bang made a prominent upward-pointing dent. And then...was that the echo of voices?  
She had no time to think further of the situation before a loud, hot explosion jarred the hallway, many of her fellow inmates yelping as shrapnel narrowly missed them. Asharion half-doubled over, coughing into her mouthpiece as an acrid black smoke and the unmistakable odor of rotten eggs filled the air. However, through the darkness cut a slightly feminine voice: "Hey! Everyone all right?"

An arm waved through the smoke in an attempt to clear it. "Geez! Sorry 'bout the smoke, guys. Turtle really outdid himself." There was coughing as a figure climbed out of the big hole in the ground, followed by two taller ones. All three wore masks with openings only for their eyes.

"Bust 'em up, guys," called one of the second, slightly-blurred shapes. The three dispersed throughout the hallway through the thinning smoke, immediately starting to pop latches, pick locks, and smack open barred doors. The first person, seemingly a girl, the one who had apologized about the smoke, rushed to the heavy barred front of Asharion's cell. She rattled the door at first, grunting quietly before reaching into her pocket and taking out a small rock. It floated to linger above the girl's palm, melding and changing shape with the minute twitches of slim fingers. Quickly, she jammed the makeshift picklock into the heavy padlock on the door, twisting and fussing and swearing until, at last, it gave a grudging click and fell open. The masked girl pulled the door open and rushed over to Asharion, who had struggled to sit up and scoot back from the chaos taking flare out in the hall. People rushed by, some screaming, some with cheerful whoops, others being carefully led out by the support of others. They poured into the gaping hole in the floor of the hallway, where it seemed there was a tunnel leading away from the hateful place.

Through the slits of the mask, the only thing that could be seen of her face were bright unmatching eyes: one green, one gold. Asharion stared at the woman like she'd never seen another person before. She was still recovering from the heartache of being forced to accept she'd die in this place; and here was a blessing of mercy. The odd colors of the girl's eyes didn't strike her brain as anything important or unusual. Those were just the colors of her eyes, nothing more; a part of, but not who, she was. Somewhere in the fog that lingered in the back of her mind, she made a similar conclusion about Zuko's scar. The odd, random thought drifted away again and was shortly forgotten.

"Geez, you sure got the royal treatment! What'd you do to piss these guys off?" the new girl asked, scoffing as she pulled at the heavy metal pieces binding the girl's arms and legs. "Not that it's that hard to, anyway." After a little more clicking and prying with her earthbending skills, the metal mouth-covering was pried off of Asharion's face. The latter let out a hoarse cough, the action rattling her bones and making her chest give a sharp, painful constriction.

"C'mon, get moving! I know you probably feel like crap, but we don't exactly have all day here!" Roko stopped talking as she hauled her scrawny companion to her feet, and was halted mid-step by the girl's eyes. One was a pale, icy blue that oddly reminded her of a cold wind during the winter seasons; the other, a deep ocean indigo, turmoil swirling in its deep depths. It was like staring into the eyes of two different people at once, and had a somewhat unnerving effect to her gaze. Asharion had come to a sudden stop shortly after Roko had, her mind sluggishly working out what was going on, trying to catch up to speed.

"Uh, right, lets go!" Roko suddenly chirped in a slightly odd voice, hauling Asharion with a rough-but strangely, not unkind-grip on her arm. The action brought a gut-wrenching flashback of fear and terror, accompanied with emotions of confusion, anxiety, and growing despair. She had had enough of being dragged around by rough hands willing her to go where they choosed; Zuko's final interactions with her had only enforced this sudden decision. And yet, she was too weak in her physical prowess at the moment to do anything more than mumble a few incoherent sentences as this other girl led her. The smoke and dust in the hall were starting to fade, people yelling. From all different directions explosions shook the ground and rattled the roof, starting the rain of debris anew, the shouting of men carrying closer from the halls.

"All right, Nose," the girl leading Asharion called out. "We got everyone clear from this section, we'll meet up with the others at the rendezvous point,"

"Got it, Roko. Maun had the Warden screaming like a wild banshee before I left him; I don't think ol' Snotscar ever imagined his own office to be so... decorated." The tall Earthbender's words were hard to hear over the rumbling din of the prison break; debris and dust continued to pour down on their heads as Roko guided Asharion with her to the hole in the wall, stopping only to turn and look to see if anyone else was left in the vacant hall. "Woooo-yyeah!" she shouted, jumping up into the air and doing a sort of odd kick with her legs as one fist punched up into the air. When her feet hit the ground, the Earth in front of her rose up to seal shut the opening in the wall, plunging everyone into blackness. No one saw her take off her mask and clip it to her belt. "A'ight, firebender coming through!" she bellowed jovially, evoking a few disgruntled murmurs from everyone else in the tunnel, before rubbing her hands together and twisting her torso, widening her legs into a strong, stable stance. Not that anyone could see this in the darkness, of course, until a small, flickering flame appeared in her hand.

It sputtered a few times, as if threatening to go out and return the people trapped underground to the darkness, but in the end Roko's will won out. Nose stepped aside, letting the shorter girl slip to the front of the small crowd of people that had remained to be guided out of the hellhole. Many others had been escorted by other rebel members that carried portable oil lamps, or had in their frenzy rushed ahead into the darkness. Roko turned and did a quick head count, her eyes hanging a little too long on Asharion, eyes narrowing, then widening with bright ambition before she looked away. Whatever idea she had in her head, the 'Comet' had just confirmed the possibilities of being right likely. A constant, moaning grumble followed behind the group as Nose pulled the Earth from the sides of the wall, and filled in the tunnel as the group made their own quick, easy pace.

Asharion stumbled several times, her eyes flicking in confusion to the strangers that surrounded her, some in cleaner clothes than others. It was about four men, two teenage boys and three other women with them, not including Asharion, Nose, or Roko. The weakened young woman kept her hand running against the bumpy texture of the wall to help keep herself upright. Her footsteps constantly fumbled or slipped, and she made a large effort to keep her distance from everyone else, for fear she'd topple into them. After some time walking, one of the younger boys of the group stumbled and fell, and a man stooped down to pick him up. Against the lad's protests he hefted him up onto his back, his arms securely curled around the boy's thighs.

"Wow, you guys are quiet," the firebender commented, pursing her lips and then grinning with an idea to cure what she saw as a problem.

"How aboooouut... some singing!" she declared, looking around the people. Some gave nods, some were too tired to really listen, and some were just... generally too relieved to be out of that hellish nightmare of a prison. Nose was walking backwards, but now turned her head over her shoulder to give the group a sparing glance. "Anyone know any songs?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

A woman clad in brown rags raised her hand timidly, answering with a nod. "I do... it's not a very traditional one, though."

"Won't they hear us?" a boy asked, sprinting forward a few steps to walk in stride next to the man who was carrying his friend.

"Naaah. Doesn't seem like it, but we're pretty far under ground. I could probably set off a barrel of blast jelly and they wouldn't be able to-er, well, maybe a little jar of the stuff, anyway. My point is, singing's not gonna give us away, so don't worry," Roko replied, followed by a sure nod of her head.

Eyes turned to the woman who had offered her knowledge of a song, and she blushed, a faint cherry-blossom pink that was almost lost to the flickering red of Roko's flame. There was no awkward beginning, no strangled first few notes. Her voice suddenly rose into the still, earth-scented air, beautiful and melodic in its whispering tunes.

_I thought of you the other day._

_How worlds of change led us astray._

_Colors seem to fade to gray,_

_In the wake of yesterday..._

_You looked into my eyes;_

_You had me hypnotized,_

_And I can still remember you._

_I had a dream of you and I;_

_A thousand stars lit up the sky._

_I touched your hand and you were gone,_

_But memories of you live on..._

_You looked into my eyes;_

_You had me hypnotized,_

_And I can still remember you._

_Those moments spent together;_

_Promising forever,_

_And I can still remember you._

_Do you ever think of me,_

_And get lost in the memory?_

_When you do, I hope you smile,_

_And hold that memory a while._

_(Lyrics borrowed from Blackmore's Night)_

A mysterious, comfortable silence followed long after the woman's voice had faded away into murmuring echo's of the rock wall around them. Finally, one of the men broke the silence;

"Kyami, that was beautiful," he said, adjusting the stiff and wrinkled collar of his shirt.

"Thank you... my mother taught me that, it was one of her favorites; mine, as well."

"Cool! Anyone got another song up for us? Hey, two-eyes, how about you?" Roko chirped, her voice lively and loud.

It took Asharion a few moments of tense silence to realize that the firebender was talking to her. She lifted her head, a faint blush managing to work its way onto her features.

"U-um... I..." She stammered, mind clicking to scramble and remember what the woman had asked of her. A song? Did she even know any? She paused, a queer, far-away feeling passing over her from head to toe, almost like she was suddenly a different person. A voice filled her head, her own, in a haunting, eerie tune. She knew a song, one for some reason she felt she had made of her own accord.

"I know one, but I... I don't think it's exactly the type of one your looking for."

"I've probably heard worse; don't be shy! What, you can't sing?" Roko chided, grinning lopsidedly.

"I don't know," Asharion honestly replied. Her voice now was rather like an odd twist between a boy or girl's, soft and keening, almost, but with a touch of maternal afternotes to it.

"We're waaaaaiting~" Roko further prompted, her grin widening to showcase her teeth, the firelight glinting off of her face. It gave the impression of some kind of humorous demon.

"Fine, fine..." Asharion mumbled, clearing her throat. She took a breath, closing her eyes, and pulled the lyrics in her head into sharper focus. Soon after, she felt her chapped lips part, and her own voice spilled out into the air. At first, the new sounds on her tongue sounded foreign and strange, her previously harsher toned voice now rolling off her lips in smooth, velvet waves. The girl's voice wavered on the first few lines, the unfamiliar familiarity with the verses sounding more odd sung than recited inside her head. The song's mood was haunting, and rimmed with a sad, slow, and sorrowful melody.

_"Rain, Rain,_

_come on down; _

_Wash away the blood on the ground._

_Rain, rain,_

_purify;_

_rinse across the land to save the damned._

_Rain, Rain,_

_heal us now;_

_war has struck and cursed the land._

_Rain, Rain,_

_wash away;_

_blood has stained the land so red._

_Rain, Rain,_

_hear my plea;_

_save the lives of which you feed._

_Rain, Rain,_

_pour on down;_  
_lift our hopes and fuel our hands,"_

Asharion stopped, then, her body carrying her hesitance to know what the others thought of the song. She swallowed, raising her eyes from the ground to quickly glance at the strangers, a blush creeping across her cheeks. "I'm sorry... that's... um... all I can remember."

The entire group had stopped walking, and the tunnel had been completely silent while Asharion sang. The silence lingered like a warm, heavy blanket when she finished; most of the newly-freed people stared at Asharion wide-eyed, many with their mouths ajar in awe. The girl in question shifted nervously, pressing herself into the nearby wall and willing their gazes to go away. Roko stared at her with a strange, inscrutable expression, eyes reflecting the flickering liveliness that was her flame. "That was beautiful," she breathed, much more quietly than her previous tone. Something flickered through her eyes-not just the fire's reflection-before she turned away and continued to walk forward into the darkness. The group shifted and shuffled after her once more.


	10. A surprise?

Alright, another chapter for you guys! I plan on updating frequently, now that Rikki and I have plenty written up far ahead of the posted chapter, and i certainly owe you all for my prolonged haitus.

Edit: Went back through and added some italics where they should have been, and added scene separations. I forgot that fanfiction was funny with the stars i used on the google doc to seperate them; on here, they vanish and i have to go through and find where the scene transitions are. Sorry for any confusion anyone may have suffered, I hope i fixed it all!

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**Chapter ten:**

**A surprise?**

"So I take it now's the time to nag you about if we're there yet, right?" Nose piped up to Roko as she once again resumed the familiar pattern of first stepping firmly to the ground, widening her stance, and then lowering her hands only to raise them up once more. Nose's wrists swiveled as she made the swift gesture, the floor of rock heading her will and rising up with a rumbling moan, section by section.

"Only if you want to be left in the dark," Roko replied with a grin as she, too, took up her earthbending stance, flames dissipating, and seemingly punched the air above and then to the side of her. A hunk of rock shifted above them and moved aside to expose the sky and towering trees, bathing the group in filtered sunlight. The two's conversation and earthbending maneuvers had effectively broken the heavy silence as they rose from the depths of the earth. Asharion let out a soft sigh, all too happy to have the attention focused away from her as they ascended. Many in the group startled when the ground beneath them began to rise up, and they surfaced near the edge of the rebel encampment. One of the women let out a loud, excited noise as she ran from the group, hugging a man and all but tackling him to the ground as he spun around, just in time, to catch her. The boy who had been carried squirmed impatiently, demanding with a joyful voice to be let down. Many of the recently-rescued people, however, looked a little confused until Roko spoke up.

"Those of you who haven't been here before can follow my good friend, Nose. She'll show you where to find food if you're hungry, where to find water if you need a drink, and where to find a cozy corner if you're tired. Make yourselves comfortable," she said cheerfully. Nose herself waved and called to them, and the remainder of the group trudged after her. Before Asharion could follow them, however, she felt a light hand on her shoulder. Turning, her gaze met the gold and green eyes of one of the strangers who had sprung everyone from prison: Roko.

"Um," the firebender began articulately, looking suddenly unsure, her gaze flitting aimlessly about before finally meeting Asharion's blue eyes. "I...hmm. Do I know you?"

"How should I know?" Asharion asked, before realizing her savior probably wasn't filled in on her whole 'woke-up-on-a-ship-imprisoned-and-had-memory-loss' situation.

"Good question," muttered Roko with a dry, almost bitter laugh, before letting go of Asharion's shoulder and stepping back. "Sorry. I recognized you for some reason. You were...familiar, almost. Never mind. Forget I asked." She turned away, cheerful grin long gone, before suddenly stopping and turning to face the other girl again. "Where did you say you were from?" Nope, definitely not filled in.

Familiar...? That word rung in Asharion's ears, her mind latching onto it, craving to know the woman she had been, the life and people she had known, before waking up in a perpetual nightmare. Roko's question brought her attention back into focus, and she visibly jolted, momentary confusion washing over her features.

"O-oh, um.. I..." Come from? How should she answer? Should she tell the woman about being transferred from one ship to the next, then to the prison, her last memories of 'coming from' somewhere; or just tell her she didn't know? Deciding to go for a compromise, Asharion decided on both.  
"I... I don't remember. I woke up on a ship, the man who commanded it was named General Zhao or Zoo or something like that," she said, scrunching her visage as she pondered the vile man's name. Zhao sounded right enough, but what if it started with a K? Would Kaoh be his name? Giving up on this thought process, which flashed across the forefront of her mind for only the briefest moment, the blue-eyed woman continued.

"I was transfered over to another ship, Zuko and..." she hesitated, recalling the old man's name. It was tempting, and oddly suiting, for some peculiar reason, to want to put 'uncle' as entitlement to the grey-bearded gentleman. "...Iroh, the other man's name was Iroh." She watched as Roko's eyes first widened, then her jaw dropped.

"-you're the prisoner Maun saw getting hauled off the ship this morning? Are you kidding me?" Her eyes turned into dancing jewels of questions, curiosity, and unburdened... joy? Was that joy she had written all over her face?

Asharion blinked, a sudden wave of exhaustion crashing over her. She resisted the urge to fall over, stepping sideways and placing her hand on a nearby tree, and replied to Roko's words with a quiet, "Yeah. Why?"

"You could totally help us wi-wait." Roko suddenly leaned over, stifling her excitement, and poked her new friend in the belly, making Asharion jump slightly. "When was the last time you ate?"

The skinny girl blinked, her insides clenching suddenly as she realized that she hadn't eaten in, "Well, I think one or two days...ago...?"

"In that case, come with me! Here, I can get you some clean clothes and a spot to sleep, too, if you're tired, which you probably are, seeing as I just dragged you out of what can literally be considered hell. C'mon." With a hand on Asharion's wrist, Roko gently tugged her after where Nose and the others had gone. The newly-freed young woman was too tired to do anything but let herself be led along afterwards, and try not to trip too much.  
They soon came to a courtyard of sorts, round, with a big fire-pit in the middle and little sets of earthbended chairs and tables scattered about. The circular area was the center of the temporary camp of the Dousing Landslide, located in the middle of the island's dense forest. It was surrounded by tall hardwood trees and earthen buildings. The camp didn't extend far past the center area, with a diameter of maybe seventy feet.

A long, flat mesa of earth, about table-height, cut through the place, the usual smaller tables and chairs having been earthbended away for the moment. Along one section were set out various foods for the newly-released people: bowls of rice, bags of jerky, a smaller platter of meat set aside for only the weakest amongst them, as the hunters weren't back yet. Along another section were folded clothes of various sizes: shirts, pants, and shoes of all kinds.

Asharion blinked, her eyes washing over the wide palette of green and white robes, and almost instantly shook her head, taking a step back.  
"N-no, really, I'm fine with these. I just need to wash them."

Roko wrinkled her nose, turning her head to scrutinize her new pal. "Well, we can't exactly have you walking around everywhere in Fire Nation clothing. That will cause all sorts of trouble and suspicion... hey, wait, are you a firebender?" she asked, curiosity once again piqued.

Asharion thought back. She knew for sure that she could bend air and water; but that one time, in that argument with Zuko, she had summoned flames, too, hadn't she? "Um...sort of. I can also bend air and water.

Roko's jaw fell open. "Y-you can bend more than one element, too?! Oh, sweet! We're like buddies, 'cuz I can do that, too! Well, only two, as far as I know. Did you say that you could bend fire, or did I mishear?" Roko seemed a little overenthusiastic. Maybe more than a little, as she was practically jumping up and down.

"Um," said Asharion, blinking. "Sort of, but-"

"Woahhh! So you're like an almost-avatar! But not the Avatar-avatar, because he's bald and you have a chest. But wait, can you-oh, what am I saying. Sorry. Go eat something first and then we can talk." Roko laughed, a slight excited blush across her cheeks.

"Hey! Leader-lady, aren't we supposed to be meeting up somewhere?" a familiar woman's voice teased. Nose walked up behind Roko and placed a hand on her shoulder, glancing over to Asharion and eying her red clothes. She returned her attention to Roko.

"Forget about our party tonight? Buckshot's off looking for Maun to tell him exactly what cruelty you're putting him through," she let a lopsided grin cross her face, and added; "I owe you; letting me pick the dress was payback enough for when he busted my bow last season."

Roko smirked, hands on her hips as she leaned back slightly, standing in a loose, relaxed position. "I can't wait to see him after he's been dolled up. He makes such a pretty lady. When he's not screaming bloody murder at us, that is. Remember last time we made him crossdress, and that one crazy Fire Nation soldier tried to pick him up?" She laughed heartily at the memory, her conversation with Nose delving into old funny memories. Asharion, however, had just officially declared herself forgotten about. She wasn't sure what they meant by a party, or who Buckshot and Maun were. The blue-eyed girl shifted uncomfortably, looking tiredly from the two talking women to the surrounding camp. It was small and spread-out, not crowded save for the surplus of new prison escapees. The smell of delicious, just-cooked food caught her attention, and her gaze settled longingly on the food table, where many of the ex-inmates were lining up and receiving their servings. Her stomach involuntarily let out a loud growling noise.

Both Nose and Roko turned to look at Asharion at the sound; the latter grinned and said, "Well, aren't you hungry? Go get some food, dude!"

The famished young woman didn't need to be told twice, and made her way over to the line, murmuring quiet thanks when a significantly less scrawny ex-prison-resident called out to her, and stepped back and let her take his place in the line. The woman serving, a short Earthbender who was missing three fingers, was efficient despite her disability, and Asharion's turn came quite soon. She was handed a wooden plate containing rice, a dark brown roll, and a piece of mooserat, as well as chopsticks. Asharion flushed, accepting the food with a nervous thank-you, and stepped away from the line to let the man behind her have his turn at the food. As she passed a small boy who was hungrily finishing up the last of his small ration of food, she paused, then with a deft, quick move with the chopsticks moved the meat from her plate to his, and continued on.

Roko watched her from a little ways away, still standing next to Nose, and shook her head slightly. "She'll starve herself like that, she will. 'Least it shows she's got good intentions. Even if she is Fire Nation."

"That's a lot, coming from over here," Nose replied easily, bopping her friend on the head with a closed fist.

"Oi! I was born and raised Earth Kingdom, remember?" She gave a playful shove in return. "I just happened to be able to use earth and fire."

**-~•*•*•~-**

It was common knowledge that Iroh rarely frowned, and common knowledge that Zuko was usualy doing just that. Today was no different... for the latter, that is. Iroh's mouth was pulled into a sullen downward curve, sitting upon a bench that had been brought out onto deck. A small table in front of him held tiles for the game he was playing, each etched with a different symbol.

Zuko was frowning, his lone brow pulled into a tight knot above his nose. His footsteps were light on the metal deck, hands clasped firmly behind him as his legs followed an imaginary circular track.

"Mm, nephew, if I may be so bold," Iroh began, but stopped as Zuko's mouth opened to speak.

"I shouldn't have left her there, Uncle, she didn't deserve it. I'm no better than Zhao," he finished, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists tighter. Fire licked up into the air as his heel scraped across the deck's surface, steam rising from a puddle as his boot landed in it. He continued to pace in angry circles in front of his uncle, chest rising and falling with choppy, ragged breaths.

How could he have been so foolish? He knew very well he was prone to overreacting, but this crossed the line. Had he not frowned upon Zhao for treating the girl with such disrespect? For starving her? He'd done no better.

His uncle had made a comment after Zuko had defeated Zhao in the Agni Kai.

_"Even in exile, my nephew has more honor than you,"_ He had said.

It certainly wasn't true now.

"You regret the decision you made?" Iroh questioned calmly, the frown softening, but not vanishing from his features as he took a long, slow drag from his cup. There was a long pause that hung in the air, Zuko's pacing coming to an abrupt halt. He finally broke the silence;

"...yes," he croaked out, swallowing and finding his throat dry all of a sudden.

He stared out at the ocean, before turning his head just enough to look over to the docks that he'd handed the girl's life over to a ruthless mongrel.

Iroh gave a slow, controlled nod of his head. "Regretting something you have done is not easy to admit to, Zuko, nor is it often an easy thing to remedy,"

For once, of all times, Zuko wished that Uncle Iroh would speak in something he could actually understand. He mulled the sentence over for a moment, before turning a steely, guarded gaze to the old coot.

"You're telling me only what I already know, Uncle," Zuko accused, eyes narrowing. He wondered if approaching the man's advice with this statement would prod Iroh to further indulge his audience with an explanation.

Iroh gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head. True, he was, but there was still a soft hint in his words. "Perhaps I may have been hinting, Prince Zuko," he began slowly, taking a swallow of tea and pulling the boy into agonizing suspense. "that there is still time to fix things," he finished, eyes closed as he let out a heavy breath.

"Fix things? How am I supposed to fix things, Uncle?" Zuko demanded, throwing his hands up into the air in exasperation. "What am I supposed to do? Just waltz into the prison and tell the warden that i changed my mind?'

Iroh shrugged. "Doesn't sound all that bad to me," he stated simply.

"Unacceptable. I have to have a reason to remove her. They won't just let her go without some sort of reasoning, and, and..."

Iroh raised an eyebrow at Zuko, a measuring look on his face. "...you are worried, then, of how Asharion will feel about all of this," he asked gently, using the same careful pacing of his voice as before.

Worried? About her? Why should he be? A thought crossed his mind, but Zuko merely shoved the ridiculous notion away. This was not some kindergarten crush; it had nothing to do with the girl's feelings. He had messed up; he had made a mistake. He'd foolishly passed up so many once-in-a-lifetime opportunities merely because he had lost his cool.

He scoffed, smoke blowing out in a short huff through his nostrils.

"This has nothing to do with sentimentality," he deadpanned, and iroh shook his head, a subtle irritation coming across his features. It was reminiscent of the frustration and stubbornness Iroh showed when he played the role as firebending teacher during drills, and Zuko was demanding to move on to more advanced moves.

"You have been at sea fo-"

"I know how many years I have been at sea, Uncle! You don't have to remind me," Zuko snapped, spinning on his heel. Iroh's head snapped up, eyes dancing with the beginnings of anger.

"And have you forgotten that I, too, have not set foot on our homeland since the day you were banished, Zuko? You forget that you are not the only one who suffers homesickness."

Zuko scowled. It was true, but Iroh did not have the same terms of banishment hanging over his head.

"Everything was fine on this ship until that woman came on board." His voice was a low growl, accusing and damning.

"And she was not a danger to our ship, Prince Zuko," Iroh stated just as hotly, a sort of sadness beginning to crack through the expression of anger that had previously dominated his face.

"She's a-"

"And you are a Firebender!" Iroh exploded, jumping to his feet. His booming voice startled the few guards who were on deck with them, the tea cup smashing into a thousand tiny pieces on the ground as Iroh threw it down, shocking Zuko into momentary silence.

"What did she do to wrong you, Zuko, other than to be different from you?"

**-~•*•*•~-**

Asharion was still wearing the clothes that she'd been given by Iroh; she had refused to give them up, and Nose had asked how the clothes, really, could do them any harm besides the fireflies having to guess between either one of their members having gone traitor, or someone had gotten their clothing chest raided.

The 'almost-avatar' sat on a boulder, feeling for once, in a long while, rejuvenated. She was tired, so tired, but the warm food and life-giving water that had been shared with her had given her body renewed strength. Maun was leaning against a tree, scowling, twisting a finger in his hair and sighing.  
"Ok, so are you going to brief the girl on what we are doing or what, Roko? You've made us all wait long enough, putting this off 'til night like this." Maun's voice was laced with a sort of resigned, excited tone to it; Excited for the new event, resigned at his defeat in choosing his role in it.

"Naaah, I want it to be a surprise for her," Roko said off-handedly, beaming. A pair of different-colored, jovial eyes turned their gaze to Asharion, excitement plainly forecasted on her features.

"I suppose she of all people should be there when it happens," Nose commented, giving a soft grin to her.

"When what happens?" Asharion asked, finally. Roko had told her earlier that they had a special event planned for today, one that the earthbender felt sure the new arrival would love to be a part of.

"When-" Maun began, before Roko threw a rock at him.

"You'll find out soon enough, firebender," Roko stated.

Asharion bit back at a sudden surge of frustration; she was tired of nicknames, and it didn't matter anymore who used them. Never-the-less, she let it go, merely returning to her examining of the leaf she'd plucked from the forest floor.

"When are we going to leeeeave?" Turtlebiscuit whined, flopping backwards onto the ground with a dramatic flourish.

"Soon as the skeleton crew for the fireflies on dock-duty come out," Roko replied with a wistful air to her voice. "Buckshot should be giving a signal anytime now," she added, a glimmer in her eyes.

Nose grinned lopsidedly, opening her mouth to speak just before a soft owl's cooing filled the forest air. Roko stiffened for just a moment, eyes widening in excitement.

"All right, Maun, you're up," Nose stated, Roko and she passing the man impish grins.

"That's Mrs. Mauny to you, ladies," Maun replied, flashing his own devilish smirk before slipping off into the shadows of the woods.


	11. Jackpot

Lots of things going on in this chapter! The wheels are turning~

I'm updating about a chapter each day, now, since Rikki and I are so far ahead.

* * *

**Chapter eleven:**

**Jackpot**

"Ma'am, where did you say you were from, exactly?" The exasperated voice prodded the sobbing woman once more. The platoon of soldiers had stopped, momentarily, to confront a hysterical earthbender woman who was, or so they assumed, lost.

The lady's voice when she answered took the soldier off guard, just before the ground opened up beneath each of the Fire Nation soldiers and dropped them down into an earth prison.

"Hate to do this to you, you actually seemed like pretty nice guys for once," Maun stated, grinning down at the Fire Nation soldiers through the earthen grate that allowed Maun to view inside.

He was answered with a blast of fire, and Maun merely stepped back, laughing.

"Keep 'em company, Mauny!" Nose chimed, running from the thicket of trees as she sprang out onto the deck. She carried something on her shoulder, the object covered in a soft, faded red cloth. Roko was not far behind, Turtlebiscuit on her back to make better pace and Asharion tagging along after them.

"Pretty dress, Mauny!" Roko offered helpfully as she zoomed past.

"I don't know why I even bother," Maun stated, laughing softly, shaking his head as he turned to scan the surrounding area. So far, the coast was clear.

Roko settled Turtlebiscuit down on the dock from her back, the boy running up next to Nose to dig into whatever object of interest was hidden within the parcel she carried. Asharion felt her gut tighten the moment they'd neared the docks, and now her stomach had an unwelcome nauseous sensation curdling inside of it.

"Roko," she urged, skin crawling as they neared the all-too familiar ship. "Roko!" she hissed, grabbing the earthbender's sleeve. "What are we doing here?"

"Cool your nerves, two-eyes!" Roko replied, grinning at her new friend. "This is the plan; -pants in there is gonna wake up to a surprise when he finds his ship's been looted. I figured you'd want to be a part of the group going in, and get back at the guy who handed you over to those prison goons. Besides that, you've been on his ship. You may know things we don't," she finished confidently, waiting for Asharion's frown to turn into a grin or some sort of mischievous smirk or something.

Instead, Asharion's eyes had widened, and she took a step back. "N-no way, I-"

"Ok, we're set!" Turtlebiscuit announced, after having helped Nose set up an odd contraption on the metal wall of the floating rig. He was standing on a slab of earth that Nose had lifted from the shoreline, and was keeping levitated out over the water for Turtle to stand on.

"Hit it, squirt!" Roko cheered softly, glancing back as other members of the Dousing Landslide joined them, Buckshot among them.

Asharion felt her chest tighten, memories flashing up into her mind as though she was reliving the moments anew. It felt wrong, to be doing this, but hadn't what Zuko had done to her been wrong as well? And what of the stories she'd heard from the people around her, now? They had filled her in with details on the war, how the Fire Nation soldiers had brutally attacked this Earth Kingdom village to make use of its convenient ports and fertile farmland. So far, Roko and Nose were the only one's who knew Asharion didn't have any memories beyond waking up on Zhao's ship, and she had been hesitant in divulging the memories she'd newly collected in any sort of detail.

"We... we aren't going to kill anyone, are we?" Asharion asked, finally, voice soft.

Roko turned to her, then, frowning. "Maun's always said that two rights don't make a wrong. I'm not up for killing anyone unless that person leaves me no choice, even with the casualties the Fire Nation has tallied up." She softened, then, sighing. "Relax, Ash. You've got nothing to worry about, not with everyone here around us," She placed a hand on Asharion's shoulder, before pulling the girl into a hug.

Asharion blinked, momentarily confused with the gesture before a flickering of familiarity slowly eased into her body, and she returned the embrace.  
Turtlebiscuit was swearing softly, earning a reprimand from Nose, followed by her asking what was wrong.

"Stupid thing won't-"Turtle was cut short when the machine suddenly gave a loud buzz and hum, before Turtle grasped down on a lever and twisted, tracing a rectangular door with the otherwise silent device. Asharion and the others stared, watching as a soft glow cut into the metal. Buckshot had moved off to the side, bending water up and over to the glowing iron and watching as steam rose into the air, cooling the deep cut in the metal hull.

**-~•*•*•~-**

Zuko stared down at the pair of boots that lay, abandoned, in the center of his room. His back leaned heavily against the door he'd just closed behind him, jaw set. His uncle's words still echoed in his mind, bounding around and banging against the insides of his skull. He closed his eyes, not sure what he should be feeling.

Eventually, he let his shoulders slump as he pushed off from the cool metal behind him, walking across the room and stooping down to pick up the discarded shoes. It was settled, then.

His mind would not be at rest until he'd handed the Avatar over to his father, but that was the longterm. Short-term, and thus immediately fixable, he would not be at ease until Asharion was back on this ship and not wasting away in some barren prison. This resolve seemed to settle the crashing waves of emotions inside of him, calming them to a gentle ripple.

Exhaustion took over the firebender's figure as he made his way to his bed, dropping the boots on the ground by his dresser before he flopped down onto the mattress. It had started out unruly and hard against his back, but three years of usage and Zuko's body growing accustomed to the discomfort led the bed to take on a far softer appeal.

He closed his eyes. He opened them, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. He was impatient for the sun to rise tomorrow, impatient to get tomorrows events done and overwith, and he wanted to get back at sea and have things moving along at a swift, reasonable pace. He closed his eyes again, knowing that the sooner sleep came, the sooner he would be waking up at first light to start the day anew.

"..." He didn't know how long he lay there, eyes closed, trying to push every thought from his mind away so that he could sleep.

**-~•*•*•~-**

"Um... wow. I've seen crazy stuff before, but... what is all this stuff?" Roko asked, eyes widening as her small flame illuminated the first door they'd pushed open. They'd stumbled across the wonderful hoardings of none other than the Great Dragon of the West; not that they knew that, of course.

"Well, he is a banished prince," Nose suggested, shrugging. It made no difference; some of this stuff they could use.

Buckshot picked up a bolt of fabric, hefting it over his shoulder as well as a stuffed burlap sack. In silence he exited the room, and left for the opening in the side of the ship's wall, passing the looted items to a tall, lanky boy with cropped hair. Buckshot paused as the boy looked up to him, questions dancing in his eyes.

"Buckshot... I know Roko was kidding when she said blowing the ship up, but..." The unspoken question lingered in the air between them.  
"Tell Tiger we are still going through with the plan. Once we've got enough stuff out of this treasure trove, we'll finish the job. I've an idea where to set the bomb, but I need help getting there."

Kaz, the other boy, raised an eyebrow, pursing his lips as he turned his attention to setting the items on an earth platform, and watching Tiger on shore earthbend it back towards him. Two other people were helping load stuff down into the mouth a tunnel that led to just inside the forest, their drop-off point before they started bringing the stuff directly back to camp.

"You're going to ask the new girl?" he asked, wiping his hands together as he turned to look up at his partner. Buckshot flashed a grin down at his friend, glancing back into the shadows of the eerie ship. "Yeah, of everyone here, I think she's got the most reason to help us with this."

Kaz shook his head, frowning. "She already said otherwise before, Buckshot."

Buckshot straightened as footsteps camp behind them, turning to look over his shoulder. "Hey, Roko, took you long enough," he said with a cock-eyed grin.

"I was getting the good stuff," Roko replied, hefting up a small bag that made a definite jingling noise. Slung over her shoulder was a large duffel bag, stuffed to nearly overflowing. "Hurry up and go get more stuff. Nose nearly ran right into a guard upstairs, but he didn't see her. She says they aren't patrolling the lower levels; this rig is waaaay undermanned."

With a huff, she deposited her loot into the capable arms of Kaz, winking at him before all but skipping back into the ship.

Kaz repeated for Roko what he'd done for Buckshot, but shook his head, sighing. "I dunno, Buckshot, Roko ain't gonna like it, and-" He looked up, stopping when he realized his words greeted empty air.

Asharion had entered the ship with caution, and now walked along the hallways in a deathly silence. She did not join the others in stealing-or looting, as Roko had adamantly told her was perfectly all right to do on a Fire Nation ship, arguing that the goods were probably stolen in the first place-but rather spent her time scouting and cataloging the insides of the ship. They were on the same level that her pitch-black cell had been located on, marked by the vaguely familiar corridors and the red light by the stairwell. She glanced down the corner of the hall, looking for any moving shadows or signs of life. Her ears met only the distant growling of the vessel's inner workings, and a soft creaking noise.

Occasionally the ship would give a soft lurch, reminding her of a comment Zuko had made about her not having sea-legs yet. Asharion assumed he meant something about her being able to keep balance with a moving, unpredictable floor beneath her. As far as she was concerned, however, after this she'd never set foot on another blasted boat, sea-legs be damned.

The girl froze as the sound of soft footsteps echoed faintly down the hall, and she looked over her shoulder from the way she'd come to see Buckshot walking toward her. She relaxed, muscles relaxing as the friendly face came into view.

"Hey," he said in greeting.

"Hi," Asharion returned, momentarily at a loss for what else to say. "How is the... looting going?" she asked, hesitating briefly on the use of the term.  
"It's going great," the boy replied, grinning as he placed a hand against the wall. "Hey, I was wondering... with you having been on here and all, if you could lead me upstairs at all."

Asharion blinked, frowning. Why did he want to go upstairs? She knew that Nose was up snooping around up there, though she thought that the woman had already returned after pronouncing it safe to scurry about down here, as long as they kept their guards up and were quiet.

"Um... I... could, I guess, I mean I could try, but why?" Suspicion coiled in her gut, a frown appearing on her face.

Buckshot's smile vanished, his eyes darkening.

"Listen, kid. I know you're new around here, and Nose mentioned a bit of your past-what you can remember of it." Asharion narrowed her eyes, temper flaring in a way she didn't know it could. Even Zuko hadn't elicited an instant response of refusal from her.

"Don't call me kid," Asharion retorted, interrupting the man as he opened his mouth to speak. He closed it, his gaze seeming to measure her expression before he continued on;

"Fine. Anyway, you have no idea what kind of people these guys are. They've burned villages to the ground, set forests on fire. They've taken people from their homes, separated mothers from their children and vice versa, and so many innocent lives have been lost at their hands." Asharion flinched, swallowing. She'd heard some of the stories, or at least clips of them.

"Two wrongs don't make a right," she voiced, angry with herself for the bit of unsurety that slipped into her voice, causing it to waver.

"This is war, not some story in a fantasy world," Buckshot spat out, shaking his head. "You wouldn't understand, but someday you will. "We're almost done here, everyone's on their last load of loot. After we've got the last bunch out, Kaz and Tiger are joining us onboard. We are going to blow this ship and sink it into the harbor it stan-"

Asharion shoved him away from her, stumbling back a step, eyes wide. "T-that wasn't in the plan!" She stammered, shock gripping her before her mind came back to it's senses. "What about the people on board?" she demanded. She didn't know the crew, but she knew at least one soul on this ship was a good heart. She'd never forgive herself if he died and she could have prevented it.

"What do you think?" he said, rolling his eyes. "Sink with their ship and drown, or get blown to pieces. They're Fire Nation. They're barely even people," he stated, pushing off of the wall and blocking the narrow hallway that was Asharion's possible path out. "Which way to the nearest stairwell?" he asked.

Asharion froze, heart fluttering in her chest like a caged bird. Her eyes glanced behind her, to the long hallway that stretched left of right behind her. There was a red light above her head, a door behind her that marked a stairwell.

"It's... b-back that way," she said, pointing over his shoulder down the hallway he blocked off. Buckshot furrowed his brows in confusion, turning around to look down the hall.

"Where? I didn't see-" He whirled around at the sound of Asharion yanking open the stairwell door, and bolted.

"The hell are you doing?" He growled, grappling for a grip on her arm as she slipped into the passageway, his other hand wrenching at the door to pry it open. She writhed and squirmed, jerking her arm until his grip faltered and she could pull her arm through the opening to be with the rest of her body on the other side of the door. Buckshot let out a stream of curses as Asharion managed to pull the door shut, spinning the big turn-wheel lock on the door with a loud clacking noise that echoed in the hallway.

"Dammit! What is that craze-brained lunatic doing?" Buckshot kicked at the door, looking up at the red light, narrowing his eyes. Footsteps came, and he looked to find Tiger and Kaz running to him, worried looks on their faces.

"Roko and the others are out, Nose has the tunnel closed off and they've got everything heading back to base. What happened? Where's Ash?" blurted Tiger, looking with a confused look between the livid expression on Buckshot's face and the 'I-told-you-so' look Kaz was giving him.

"Hey! You, stop!" Asharion came to a skidding halt as a guard saw her, and turned to run the other direction. She was breathing frantically, eyes wide with panic as she tried to figure out what she was going to do.

'They're going to blow the ship up!' she thought, running down the hall as shouts followed her. She grabbed a handrail as she passed by it, swinging herself in a short, fast arc and bolting up the steps with thudding footsteps.

**-~•*•*•~-**

Roko let a grin spread across her face as she watched the alarms finally light up on Grumpy-face's ship. Boy, they were going to love the surprises they'd left on the ship. Turtle Biscuit and Maun had made some special treats of stink-bombs, and Twigs donated some of his precious smoke-screen pellets to lay a few special pranks for the firebenders.

"Oi, Roko, I did a headcount. We're missing Kaz, Asharion, Buckshot, and Tiger," Nose said, coming up to stand behind her friend, worry creasing her face as she looked out at the ship.

"What?" Roko snapped, whirling around to face Nose. "Aren't they with the supply cart heading back home? They were the first off the ship! Well, Kaz and Tiger were at least, though they weren't even on it. Buckshot went in to get Asharion out, do you think they got...?" Worry pierced her features, and Nose pursed her lips.

"We have to get them out," Roko stated, moving to run. Nose shot an arm out, catching Roko by the collar. "Wait, Roko," she started, shaking her head. "Think about it. I don't know about Asharion, but you know Buckshot has always been for a fist instead of a joke. I overheard Kaz and Tiger talking about sinking the ship. For real," she added to make her point.

"Th-they wouldn't!" Roko stammered, eyes widening, her gaze filling with rage as she turned to the ship. It was fine as a joke, but she certainly hadn't meant it! She'd been honest to Asharion when she said that she didn't want to kill anyone unless they left no choice!

Zuko sprang from bed even before the alarms were screaming bloody murder all throughout the entire ship, red lights flashing in the hallways. "What's going on?" he demanded, stopping a soldier as he rushed past towards the stairwell. Somewhat ironically, it was Kaite.

**-~•*•*•~-**

"Alarms sounded from downstairs by the mess hall," he stated in a clipped note, nostrils flaring slightly, eyes patiently waiting for Zuko to let him go. Zuko nodded, and Kaite took off, his captain rushing ahead as he jumped down the flight of stairs, one short leap after another.

Asharion had successfully cornered herself, staring up with wide, terrified eyes up at two golden orbs that matched the extremity of her expression with shock.

"What are-?" Zuko began, his fist tightening on the handrail. How in Agni had she gotten back here? What was going on?

"Zuko," Asharion stated, jerking herself out of her frozen shock. "Zuko, the ship is going to explode, we need to get off it,"

"What? How do you know this?" Zuko snapped, the shock that had previously softened his features evaporating.

"No time! Run!" Asharion shouted, even though her own feet refused to move from their spot on the landing.

An eternity seemed to pass before Zuko finally turned his head and bellowed out a command for everyone to abandon ship. Confusion lasted a heartbeat before people were scrambling up the stairwell, Asharion finding herself being dragged up the steps by Zuko, his hand curled around her wrist.  
"Where's Iroh?" she asked, struggling to keep up, clammerings of feet behind her.

Kaite was already running down the halls, shouting the warning to any stragglers that hadn't caught the message, banging on doors as he ran down the hall before disappearing up a staircase.

"He'll already be on deck," Zuko barked, coming to a sudden stop. "You run as slow as a snailgoat," he growled.

Without any warning, Asharion suddenly found herself hauled up over Zuko's shoulder as he charged through the opening of an open door, jumping down the stairwell and slowing their fall to the deck with a churning mass of fire. Asharion grunted as his shoulder dug into her stomach, but otherwise didn't have time to say anything before he was off and running again. Everyone else was already off the sides of the ship, swimming as far away as they could get. Zuko's boat was one of four currently docked at the harbor, and the men were lucky that tonight the ocean was calm despite the past several days of stormy skies.


	12. Traitor?

I promise the chapters get a little less gloom-and-doom in the near future! It helps when Aang and his gang get introduced into the story... hehehe, we have some plaaans~ Rikki and i spent a good while brainstorming.

Anyways, a shorter chapter for you, but here you are!

For those of you reading, think of your reviews like delicious chocolate chip cookies. I am starving for cookies.

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**Chapter Twelve:**

**Traitor?**

"What do you mean, she's a traitor?" Roko yelled, not believing Buckshot's tale one bit. Nose turned her attention to the ship. Men were jumping overboard and swimming away, using their firebending to propel them through the water and get as far away as possible from the boat.

"I told you! She tried to kill me, Roko! We should have known from her Fire Nation clothes!" Buckshot snapped back, pointing to the ship. "Not everyone who comes out of prison is innocent!"

"I don't believe you!" Roko yelled furiously, cocking her fist, only to be held back by Nose.

"How long till the bomb goes off?" the older woman demanded, urgency in her voice, pain constricting her heart. This was not how things were supposed to have gone.  
"If that traitorous scum hadn't warned the whole bloody ship, the demons on board would be going up in flames about now," Buckshot replied, taking his sweet time to answer.

"I don't care! Asharion could-"

Roko was cut off when the hull of the ship suddenly split open, an angry inferno of flames spewing out from the side of the metal beast's side. Another explosion resounded, its fire a haunting, feral beauty that climbed into the sky and belched angry plumes of black smoke.

A third and final explosion ripped into the air almost as soon as the second one had, rocking the boat and sending waves lapping up onto the shore of the harbor. The dock the ship had been stationed at was split into pieces, wood flying every-which-way into the air.  
Roko screamed. Nose turned on Buckshot and his crew and bellowed something obscene at them, before she shoved the three down into a tunnel that she bended into existence with short angry motions.

**-~•*•*•~-**

Asharion couldn't swim, but she could bend a floating slab of ice. They hadn't made it off the ship before an explosion had cut into the air, rocking the rig and sending Zuko's feet flying out from under him. She'd toppled off of his shoulder and landed on the deck with a painful thud. They had both slid sideways across the smooth deck as the boat tilted underneath them, and Asharion's mind somehow found the time to wonder about how far the term 'sea-legs' stretched.  
Another explosion followed by another, the deck ripping to pieces out from under them. Asharion had watched Zuko roll out of the way of a falling slab of metal shrapnel, before jumping to his feet and calling to her. Why he'd called out to her instead of just leaping over the side of the ship, she didn't know. In all the chaos of scrambling to her feet and ears being deafened by the angry flames churning in the air, she was further startled when the ship's deck cracked open behind them to belch flames up into the air.

Everything else after that was all a blur, her mind filled to the brim with the memory of orange flames consuming the air and the ship around them. What view of the sky around them the flames didn't manage to consume had been blocked out by a choking mass of smoke.

"Zuko?" She called out, heart hammering in her chest. She was sitting alone on the iceberg, drenched with frigid water and shivering from the chill of the ice beneath her. "Zuko?" She called out again, searching the black waters for any sort of human shape. Hope flickered up into her chest as she jumped to her feet, spotting a floating body out about twenty feet from where she was. Her feet slipped on the ice until she found purchase, quivering hands going through a downward sweep of her arms that brought a wave up under the flat of frozen water, sailing her over to the form.

She felt her heart fall when the man she came to had a full head of tousled, soaked hair, but she fell to her knees and struggled to pull the man up onto the ice. She felt for a pulse on his neck, though her mind was still focused on finishing her search for Zuko.

"He's alive," she murmured, dragging the man's unconscious form onto the center of the berg. His body was hot despite the cold water he'd been floating in, and she wonder if it was because he was a firebender. She pushed the thought away; it was irrelevant.

"Zuko!" she shouted, voice sounding quite and tiny compared to the loud burbling, hissing, and steaming that was going on at the ship. Had he... had he even gotten off the ship? What if he was trying to swim out of the maze of debris that littered the water, or trapped, or-

"Zuko!" She could have been a little less swift with the sudden jerk down of her arms as the ice sheet rocketed across the water, nearly dislodging both of its occupants, but Asharion didn't care to chastise herself as she came up in the water next to the man she'd been searching for. She crouched down on the ice, waving her hands frantically at the water that surrounded Zuko's limp form, his arm draped over a thick log that had once been a part of the doc his ship had been tethered to.

"If you're dead, I swear I'll bring you back to life just to kill you myself," she said shakily, hands groping for purchase on his slick, soggy clothes as she hauled his form onto the floating ice. What she didn't expect was the sudden turning of the ice from white to red, the new ruby-colored liquid mingling with the water as more of it spilled out from Zuko's form.

Asharion's breath caught, and she was sure her heart was now sitting in her throat, lodged there and refusing to beat for a long, painful moment.

"Z-zuko?" She breathed, dragging him away from the edge and pulling him up next to the other firebender. She tugged on his uniform's collar to make room to slip her hand in between the wet fabric and his neck. The air was an odd combination of cold and hot at the same time, the heat, of course, coming from the shipwreck that was slowly sinking down into the water. She could hear shouts and splashes, but her mind was soley focused on one thing; feeling for a pulse.

Finally the shift of her hand brought her fingers to brush across the soft fluttering of the firebender's pulse, and she released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. She closed her eyes, taking a slow, calming breath. For some reason, her body felt like this combination of adrenaline, fear, anxiety, and relief was not new.

She wondered if she'd been in situations like this in the past that she couldn't remember, and for some reason this thought soothed some of the panic that was racing around inside her. If she'd done this before, then obviously, she could do it again.

Asharion straightened, lifting her chin some as she brought her arms out in a fluid sweep out in front of her, wrists bent down. Her fingers were splayed like the talons of a hawkfish as her shoulders rotated to bring her arms first down and then up, the water in the men's clothes rising into the air. Asharion decidedly ignored the pinkish color that tainted the water, before she swept her arms to the side and the liquid soared overboard.

She looked from the boat to the dock, which was now being swarmed with Fire Nation troops, before her gaze looked past an outcropping of jagged rocks and locked onto the unruly edge of forest that crowded the edge of land before the sea's waves crashed up against it.

Men were splashing in the water ahead, climbing onto floating debris or making their way to the land. The woman stood, and with a decisive slash of her arm the ice beneath her feet gave a slight rise before the water beneath them sent them sailing towards the direction of land.

**-~•*•*•~-**

"Nose. Nose," Roko stated, having to jog to catch up to the hard pace her friend was setting, pushing the trio of boys ahead of her with little mercy.

"Nose!" she finally snapped, jumping forward and yanking on the woman's sleeve, who spun around to face her. Tears were streaking her flushed face, eyes hard and sharp as the knife strapped to her waist.

"What, Roko?" she asked, voice strained. The shorter of the girls stopped, mouth opening, then closing, before she finally found the words to speak.  
"Aren't.. we going to go after her?" She breathed, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Right now we have to get back to camp and ensure that this commotion isn't going to send Fire Nation troops into the woods to find our merry encampment. We will pack up, tonight, and start heading out towards a new site that Taki has scouted out. I'm handing these boys over to Maun to deal with, and then-"

"What about Asharion?" Roko yelled, throwing her hands up into the air, the earth around her giving a rough shake before Nose grabbed her wrists and sighed.  
"-and then, you and I are going to go looking for her. I doubt the men on board would be willing to let her drown, especially if she's..."

"One of them?" Roko finished softly, crestfallen.

"She isn't. Someone like that doesn't give their meat to a hungry kid," Nose stated firmly, a weak smile creasing her lips. "Besides, she's a waterbender, remember? There's no way the sea would drown one of her own." Of course this wasn't necessarily true, but neither of the two women were willing to break their small flicker of hope for the harsh logic of reality.

Tiger was far ahead of them now, his stomps and harsh movements of his arms digging the tunnel that would lead them back to the camp. Nose sighed again, before walking on ahead, turning her back to Roko.

Roko felt her voice quiver as she opened her mouth to speak, and shut it just as quickly, spinning on her heel to resume closing the tunnel behind them. There was no way she was leaving her friend to the mercy of those bafoons. She and Nose would find Asharion, and bring her back home with them. Buckshot was wrong; Asharion wasn't a traitor.

Roko felt her hands stop, suddenly, eyes staring into the darkness where the cold Earth met a dead-end in front of her. A dim flicker of amber light was cast about the small group, Kaz in possession of a candle.

"She doesn't... she doesn't have any memories of the war," Roko stated aloud to herself, working to completely remove the doubt that Buckshot's words had planted in her mind. "A-Asharion just doesn't... she doesn't distinguish between people, Firebender or otherwise. She's not a traitor," she finished meekly, clenching her eyes shut as tears threatened to pour out. Her body returned to the only act that could give her any comfort at the moment, the Earth around her silently obeying.


	13. Reasons

It's been a bit! Here's the next chapter for you guys. I'm real happy with how the story is turning~ You're in for some interesting plot line activity in the near future~

And don't worry, Aang and co will be introduced soon~ ;D just be patient.

I've noticed we've picked up some new story followers! I hope you guys have been enjoying the story, I'd love to read some reviews.

Oh, hey, right. I noticed something... I was developing all the characters for Zuko's crew, and then right after I got down all their names and roles and some backhistory on a few of them, I watch an episode from the series pretty much solely focused on them and their relationship with their captain! Ah, well, it's a fanfiction! I'm allowed to change things. And besides, I'm not giving Kaite up and replacing him with Lieutenant Jee.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**Reasons**

Asharion sat by the fire Iroh had called to life. Her chin rested on her knees as she stared into the flames that seemed small and docile compared to the out-of-control inferno from before.

Someone sat next to her, an unfamiliar face of hard lines and short hair. The soldier stared down at his hands, fingers restless. He finally swallowed, turning his head to look down at the girl beside him, amber eyes dancing with the light from the fire in front of them.

"I... wanted to thank you," he began, his deep voice breaking into Asharion's thoughts.

"You're welcome." She didn't lift her gaze from the fire, but gave a short nod of her head. Men chattered around them; tall black forms with thin strips of red adorning their shadowy figures. The lack of individuality between the firebenders had been removed; all helmets had been forfeited to the sea during the scramble to get to land.

The soldier next to her looked back down to his hands, his shoulders rising and falling like speaking to Asharion was one of the hardest thing's he'd ever done. His voice again reached the girl's ears;

"I was..." He seemed to choke on his words, and swallowed, thumbs twiddling faster now. "I was one of the men who handed you over," he finished, the words hollow and dead. "You saved our lives," he finished, looking to her with uncertain eyes.

Asharion looked up to him, face tired. She watched him a moment, taking in the slumped shoulders, the humiliated expression, and the genuine apology written across the man's features. Her expression softened, and a small smile shaped her lips.

"Don't worry about it," she murmured, watching the heavy tension on the man's face fade slowly. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead stopped and sighed, giving a small nod of his head.

"My name is Altair," he said, holding out a calloused hand to her. Asharion took it after a brief pause, letting his firm grip wrap around her's and give an easy shake.

"You can call me Asharion, Altair" she said, using his name to engrave it into her mind alongside the image of his face. "Did..." she bit her lip, hand still clutching his as she wondered if it was right to ask.

"We lost three men," Altair replied in answer, waiting until she let go of his hand before returning it to his lap. At the sudden flash of panic on the girl's face, he quickly continued. "Zuko is not one of them, and we don't know if the other three are lost or not. They may have gone to the docks, or have yet to find us here." 'Here' being the small clearing that the weary crew had filed into. All in all, there were about twelve men, including the ship cook, one doctor, and two engineers. Everyone had gotten off the ship, and Asharion was wondering how this tiny number of men had managed a ship even that small size. Well, to her it was huge, but next to other rigs it was tiny. She fidgeted, reaching down to brush her fingers across the forest floor. Leaves, twigs, and hard soil greeted her hand.

Altair gave a short laugh, placing his hand on her head and turning it about to look behind her. She twisted her torso to comply, looking towards the edge of the clearing were two figures knelt by a third.

"I'm sure if he was awake, he'd be thanking you, too," Altair commented. Asharion scoffed, shaking her head. He'd be questioning her, no doubt.  
"You know... um..." Altair cleared his throat, his hand moving to support his weight on the ground as he turned to look at her, then over towards the scene not far away from them.

"I've heard that waterbenders, some of them have the ability to heal." The statement sounded more like a question despite its wording. Asharion looked to him, eyebrows knitting together.

"I... don't know if I can or not," she replied. Altair's expression seemed to drop as he looked away and nodded. "You could always try. If you wanted to, I mean," he added, worrying the fabric of his uniform between his fingers. Asharion felt her stomach fill with butterflies, her fingers suddenly aching to call the water to her hands. Heal Zuko? Bitter thoughts clouded her mind, the harsh words Buckshot had fed her mind with echoing around in her thoughts. Was he even worth saving?

Asharion's eyes widened in horror at what she was thinking, and shook her head to clear the thoughts, taking a deep breath. Altair gave her a worried look, raising an eyebrow at her.

"What's wrong?" He asked, concern lacing his tone.

"N-nothing, just thinking," she replied. It was true; Zuko had treated her rudely, even though some of the moments she could-almost-laugh at for their comical relief. She still had not forgiven his uncontrolled fury, nor the cold and dark cell that she'd been locked in. Randomly, the image of the fire and water snakes coiling through the air came to the forefront of her mind, soothing her thoughts. For just a small moment she felt her heart shift, and she sighed, shaking her head. Zhao was cruel first, angry second. He had treated her like dirt the moment she'd fallen into his custody. Zuko hadn't been unpleasant-unreasonably so-until after Asharion had been dumb enough to push his buttons.

Finally, she turned to the man at her side, undertain eyes watching him. He looked at her, a questioning expression on his face beckoning her to voice her thoughts.

"...give me one reason to try;, all I need is one," Asharion stated, swallowing. Altair's expression softened, kind eyes glowing in the fire's light.

"He regretted what he'd done. The captain was going to return to the prison tomorrow morning with an excuse to take you out of the prison and return you to his ship." Asharion was visibly taken aback, but Altair's expression didn't change. He was telling the truth.

"The bleeding has slowed, but there's not much else I can do," the doctor said, pressing another rag torn from his clothes to Zuko's chest. Iroh was kneeling, hands clasped gently around one of his nephew's. At the sound of Asharion's approach he looked up and his face softened.

"Asharion, we have much to thank you for," he said sincerely, bowing his head to her.

"You're... you're welcome." She stopped, biting her lip and stood awkwardly for a moment before finally deciding to kneel down on the ground beside Iroh. Her gaze flicked between the surgeon's hands and Iroh's hold on Zuko, suddenly feeling like an intruder in a private moment.

"I see you've met Altair," Iroh commented in a mysterious tone, his eyes looking up to meet hers. Ancient wisdom swirled in their amber-orange depths, a small peek into the retired general's eyes. Asharion felt oddly like he knew exactly what she'd been thinking.

"He said that some waterbenders can heal," she finally quiped, and the middle aged man across from her looked up, golden eyes glowing with the light from the nearby fire. He waited a moment, before returning to look down at his bloodied hands, the cloth still slowly soaking up blood.

"Some of them can," Iroh confirmed, glancing up at the bender next to him, expectant for her to continue.

"I... um... I was wondering, if maybe I could-"

The surgeon lifted his gaze, eyes hard and guarded. Not against Asharion's words, but against his own tears that threatened to spill out, not that he'd ever admit to them. "Of course," he said stiffly. Asharion blinked, before giving a small nod, scooting closer to the unconscious form of the man that lay on the ground between them. She was aware of the two men's gazes upon her, and even more aware of the fact that she didn't know what she was doing. Still, she felt one of her hands lift, calling the water that wet the ground under them to her hands.

It rose from the ground in tiny droplets that floated up to collect in the air, the clear fluid catching the amber lighting. She swallowed, closing her eyes and listening to the soft call of the wind as it picked up, sifting quietly through the trees and rustling leaves. Her other hand raised, giving a small lifting motion and calling another bubble of water into the air, the two orbs suspended over the ground. The doctor's breath caught, watching the waterbender as the two spheres floated over to wrap themselves around each of the girl's hands.

He pulled the bloody rag away, eyes flicking down to the ghastly wound in Zuko's torso, the angry red slash cutting through the planes of his chiselled chest. Asharion was silent, feeling the cool liquid seem to warm itself upon touching her skin, a sense of calm washing over her limbs that was welcomed and relaxing. Iroh's breath visibly caught as the water began to glow a bright oppalescent blue. Asharion shifted in her position on the ground, before bringing her hands down towards Zuko's chest.

**-~•*•*•~-**

The sullen, tense tunnel-voyage back to camp eventually ended. No sooner than the opening of the tunnel had been sealed completely, Roko disappeared, to Nose's dismay. After the woman helped Tiger, Kaz, and Buckshot load up the loot more firmly for the incoming move, she made sure to set off to find the girl. Though Roko did well with people, she had always been a loner, especially when upset. Nose was further discouraged when she reached the site of the earth-tent in which Roko slept. Said tent had been bended back into the ground, and into said ground was carved a message in somewhat sloppy handwriting: "Went to find Asharion. Don't wait for me. I know where the new camp is." It wasn't signed, but it was plain who had written the message.

Nose put her hands on her hips and sighed in exasperation. Her dual-bending comrade had a reputation for her naivety. Quickly realizing that standing in upset wouldn't help anyone, Nose bended the message away and then went to assist with the preparations for moving camp. Roko could probably hold her own; her skills bettered themselves every day. Nevertheless, Nose couldn't stop her motherly instinct from worrying for the girl.

Meanwhile, Roko herself had foregone her famous comet maneuver, instead navigating a small tunnel until she had left camp. She knew she'd be missed, but this was something she needed to do immediately. She still wasn't sure what she had seen in Asharion's face, her eyes; however, she knew that there was no way, ever, that they could be separated again. She couldn't answer questions of why, but she simply knew it, the way she knew that the sky was blue. It was a fact of life.

Exiting her miniature catacomb into the forest, Roko simply stood for a moment, pulling the dark cloak she'd borrowed a bit more tightly about her shoulders. She could hear no signs of life, excluding her own breathing. Bending into existence a palmful of fire, she warmed her hands, and set off at a brisk pace, eager to recover her friend.

Most of the forest trees were much the same. Occasionally, Roko would stop in her tracks if she heard a noise, felt movement in the undergrowth through the element under her feet; however, the culprits were always animals or irregular spells of wind.

While she walked, she thought. Her mind roamed fickley from topic to topic: the parents and family she had never known; the terror and uncertainty of her childhood; the jubilance and rightness of being a rebel and fighting for freedom from the Fire Nation's iron grip. Her thoughts quickly returned to Asharion. Roko had been so happy, so excited, when she had learned that her new friend was a bender of multiple elements, too.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a soft glow of warm, amber light came to her attention as she ducked under a low-hanging branch. Not far ahead, the faint sounds of quiet chatter and crackling fire's met Roko's ears. Her heart gave a skip, hope and fear simutaneously filling her chest. Was this the group of soldiers that had abandoned ship? Was Asharion with them, and if she was, was she ok? Roko felt her fist clench, extinguishing the little flame she had conjured, when the image of the blue-eyed girl, shackled, came to mind. They better not have tied her up.

Roko was confident they wouldn't have, however, if the bender was with them; how could you justify tying up the very person who'd just saved your life, and the lives of your comrades? Well, okay, she knew there were people out there who wouldn't have any qualms about doing that, but she would rather believe that these guys were different. Asharion wouldn't have saved a bunch of old grumps, Roko decided that her friend must have seen something of worth in them, in their lives, to risk her own to save them.

Needless to say, the woman in question was exhausted. Iroh gave a soft sigh, relieved in so, so many ways as he felt his nephew's forehead. The waterbender had fumbled successfully through her first-first that she could remember, anyways-healing expedition, but not without it taking its toll. Zuko was far from fully recovered, but he was awake, and the skin on his torso was formed into the accelerated stages of healing. The young firebender would be left with a scar, but he would live.

"How did she get on the ship, Uncle?" Zuko asked in a hoarse, raspy voice. Iroh looked up at him, raising an eyebrow, before glancing over to the sleeping form of Asharion, curled up by the fire next to them.

"You may ask a wise man as many times as you'd like, and he still will not have an answer for you," Iroh stated in a sagely voice, hands out in front of him as the elder man enjoyed the fire's warmth. Zuko wondered that his Uncle was incapable of the simple phrase; 'I don't know.' Many of the men had lain down on the ground and gotten as comfortable as they could get, several soft snores filling the air alongside quite conversations. The forest around them was dark as pitch, its depths stirred only by the sounds of wild animals or spontaneous breezes.

Roko had arrived just as Asharion was finishing her work, remaining semi-hidden in the brush; she would've been seen if anyone was looking, but the glow of the healing water drew eyes like a lamp drew moths. In a less lethal manner, of course.

Now she took a silent seat next to Asharion by the fire, foregoing her usual, more obvious entrance. There was an aura of calm about the place; the crew of this boat had been severely displaced and had lost everything, with nowhere to go, but with the saving of the young man Roko took to be their leader they had gained an atmosphere of relief.

Roko looked at the men that littered the clearing; most were sleeping, but there were a few soldiers sitting around the central fireplace and talking in subdued voices. She turned her attention to where Asharion lay curled up beside Iroh and in front of the fire, her arm folded beneath her head to serve as a pillow. Deciding the girl seemed too calm in her sleep to be roused quite yet, the earthbender simply sat, deciding to see how long it took until she was noticed.

"Did you ask her to do this?" Zuko asked quietly, his hand lifting to lay flat against the closed wound. He was sitting up, one arm behind him to support the weight of his upper body. The doctor was behind the young man, tearing neat strips of cloth from a shirt to use as bandages. Iroh rewarded Zuko with a smile, shaking his head. "No, I did not," he stated simply, looking up into the treetops with a soft sigh. Zuko wasn't sure what to think of his uncle's answer, and blood loss had made his head feel light and dizzy; the last thing he wanted to do was think.

Despite this wish, his brain was pulling up thoughts from the soup of memories that crowded his mind. He wanted to know how Asharion had got out of prison. Obviously, she'd escaped. He wanted the details. A few ideas hatched into being before Zuko dropped them, images of his ship exploding rudely interrupting the line of thought. Asharion's face, wide-eyed and terrified, her body quivering and hair a mess stared up at him from the stairwell landing. How had she known about it? Someone had sabotaged his ship, no doubt. He frowned, amber eyes staring down at the pile of red and black that had stirred next to the fire.

So many thoughts occupied his mind, so many different things to think about; Boiling, molten rage at whomever had blown up his ship, risking the lives of his crew, his uncle, and himself. Anger and frustration that this horrendous event had stripped them of everything but the clothes on their backs; supplies, food, water, transportation. He was tired, exhausted, and just a little bit sad. He was still licking his wounds from the regret he'd felt after banishing toilet-eyes from his ship, and he felt his lips part in a sudden harsh, short laugh. Asharion was toilet-eyes, and he was a balding old man. He blinked them, confused for a slow, dumb moment before realizing that in his lapse of intelligent thought, he'd laughed. He frowned, tipping his head back and sighing.

The avatar. Zuko called the image to his mind; a twelve-year old boy with arrow tattoos and an infuriating smile that never seemed to leave his face. Aang was his name, Zuko thought sourly. He'd never used it, of course. Airbender, The Avatar, or Child worked well enough. He would never admit to it, but Zuko was afraid that using something so humanizing as a name would change Aang from his ticket home to a human being who lived and breathed. It was far easier to view the Avatar as an object.

Why could Asharion bend three elements? He pondered suddenly, staring down at her as his golden gaze dropped. He was vaguely aware of the sudden shift of wind, an ominous breeze making the fire in front of him dance. His hand clenched, fingers digging into the loose top-layer of soil. What if she could bend Earth, as well? Would that make her a... a second Avatar? Was that even possible?

Legend said that there was only one person who was the bridge between the human world and the spirit world, and could bend Water, Wind, Earth, and Fire. If this girl could bend all four... could she visit the spirit world? He froze when he found his hand reaching for her,fingertips lingering just over her shoulder. He drew his hand back, confused at his own actions. His gaze flicked over to uncle Iroh; the old man's chin was dipped down onto his chest, eyes closed. The odd moment was forgotten as Zuko contemplated Iroh's beard. He'd never thought about it before, but the shape of it reminded him of a dragon's beard and horns. That, or some sort of fungus that sprouted off the sides of trees.

He briefly scanned the scattered circle of people clustered loosely about the firepit as the doctor began to wrap his wound with the newly-made bandages. Suddenly startled, he sat up a little straighter, his abdomen protesting at the maneuver and head swimming from the fresh reminder of pain. It may have been the lighting, but he could've sworn there was a face he didn't recognize.

Said face was half-hidden by a hood, and its owner seemed to notice when she was seen. Pushing back the garment, the girl gave a smile. Zuko stared, wondering if blood loss had started giving him hallucinations. Her eyes were more unsettling than Asharion's; one was a bright firebender gold and the other, a deep emerald green.

The girl raised empty hands, speaking in a quiet voice. "I come with peaceful intentions. I just wanted to know that Asharion was safe. I was the one who broke 'er out of prison, you know."

Zuko's mind was slow to process this information, the fact that the imaginary figure could talk more important to his numbed mind than what she was saying. He blinked, brow furrowing before recognition flicked across his face. "You're an earthbender," he decided aloud, confident his assumption was correct.

"You could say that," she said before flashing him an impish, toothy grin. "And you're a firebender," she stated matter-of-factly, raising an eyebrow at him. There was a question behind her eyes, one that Zuko failed to pick up on.

"What of it?" he asked brusquely, aware that the man behind him had taken notice of the new conversation. The doctor, however, did not make any comment, merely continuing to wrap the strips of cloth about the wounded young man's torso.

"Sooooo, you aren't going to try to burn me into the ground?" Roko asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't give me a reason to," Zuko said gruffly. He didn't need her attitude. At that thought, he gave a soft, sarcastic laugh. Attitude? He was the king of attitude.

By now, the men who were still awake had begun to take notice of the newcomer, and the

earthbender found herself under the scrutiny of several golden gazes. Besides Zuko, Asharion, Roko, and the sleeping Iroh, there were two more men occupying the fire they sat around. Two more fires were lit, one of which was vacant of awake minds.

"So Ash here saved your life, huh?" Roko asked the prince, even though she already knew the answer. Best to make some sort of conversation, get on this guy's good side; even though he was injured, he didn't look any less intimidating.

Zuko nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off the stranger as the doctor worked, stepping away. They simply regarded each other in silence for a few moments. Roko was quietly curious about the young man; the hardness of his amber eyes and the scar splayed across the side of his face. She knew not to stare, and eventually averted her eyes; many of those in her camp had similar causes of embarrassment.

To Zuko, Roko was somewhat mysterious. The mismatched eyes, first of all; they were almost the opposites of Asharion's, and he found this slightly unnerving. Her calm demeanor was exposed as false when she had flashed that grin at him. He also noticed her occasional glances at the sleeping girl to her side, as if concerned for her welfare. Asharion herself showed few signs of stirring or waking up any time soon; considering the day's strenuous activities-and a long day it had certainly been-the rest was well-deserved.

The stranger stood suddenly, cloak swishing just a little. She didn't move immediately, and merely stood there, eyes narrowed but unfocused. It seemed she was thinking.

"I'll be back eventually," she murmured vaguely, suddenly glancing around, before taking off at top speed into the forest. There were a few brief seconds of silence as the sounds of her footsteps faded; then the unmistakable crunch of bent earth, and a sudden flash of brightness streaking from within the trees and into the sky. It was unmistakably fire, and there was unmistakably someone bending it. Someone wearing a cloak.

Zuko wasn't sure how long he stared after the fiery trail; well, at where it had been before it faded into smoke, invisible against the night sky. It wasn't until he felt the subtle tug of Oldo finishing the knot on the bandages now wrapped snugly around his chest that Zuko was pulled out from his thoughts. A warm hand was placed on his shoulder, and the doctor spoke in soft, hushed words;

"You should rest now, Prince. We shall worry about our guest tomorrow morning; for now, sleep." They were the only two who remained awake, though the forest shadows had become alive with sounds of nocturnal creatures scurry about. A moth-owl sang its lullaby in eerie notes that drifted lazily around the trunks of trees and slipped between their leaves.

Lying back, some folded garment under his head as a makeshift pillow, Zuko closed his eyes and was quickly overcome by a soft, dark wave of sleep.


End file.
